


You Can't Teach An Old Dog New Tricks

by LadyElizabeth



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Game of Thrones - Freeform, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, King's Landing, Love, Minor Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Modern Westeros, Past Abuse, Romance, Sandor Clegane - Freeform, Sansa Stark - Freeform, Sex, Smut, Tension, Thoros of Myr - Freeform, Tormund Giantsbane - Freeform, Whirlwind Romance, protector - Freeform, sansan, teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 01:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 122,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19075090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyElizabeth/pseuds/LadyElizabeth
Summary: Sansa Stark teaches first grade at Crownlands Academy, a private school in King's Landing. Her family is a wealthy and influential presence in the capital. Sandor Clegane makes decent wages as a hardworking mechanic, but when he crosses paths and quickly falls in love with Sansa, he wonders if his presence in her life will bring Sansa and her family joy, or cause strife. Modern AU.





	1. Chapter One

It made Sansa Stark a little sad that another week was over. On Friday afternoons, most teachers raced for the doors with enthusiasm that rivaled that of their students. She had always loved her job, and was dedicated to her students, but in the past four months, the school had become her safe haven. She had thrown herself even more into her work than ever before. He was serving his sentence in the county prison, but knowing he was behind bars wasn't enough. The eight month sentence he had been given for pleading guilty to domestic violence wasn't enough. Sansa's relationship with Ramsay Bolton had taken a severe toll on her. More than mean, he had been brutal and abusive. In the early months of their two year courtship, his attacks started verbally, and innocently enough; teasing her about her clothing choice, or the way she wore her hair. One morning, Sansa had giggled and rolled her eyes when Ramsay told her too much of her beloved coffee would turn her teeth yellow. She had then cried out and shrank against the kitchen counter after he swung at her and angrily hit her mug out of her hands. Sansa's '#1 Teacher' mug that had been given to her by a student at the end of her first year of teaching shattered against the kitchen wall of the two bedroom apartment they shared downtown. The stain on the wall from the coffee had prevented her from getting her security deposit back when she decided to move once Ramsay was put in jail. As time wore on, Ramsay's chastising turned into ridicule, and then into physical violence. A fist in the gut for making him wait. A bruise on her back for staying too late at school to work on her master's classes. He never left marks on her face, though. That would lead to speculation. But the morning Sansa finally fought back, she wound up in the hospital with a collapsed lung. Ramsay had struck her so forcefully with a golf club, her rib had punctured her lung. He intended for her to die right there in their kitchen, and had planned on blaming intruders. Luckily for Sansa, Ramsay had been unfamiliar with their maid's schedule. Five minutes after Ramsay had stormed out, the maid found Sansa's bloody, unconscious body on the foyer floor. Paramedics had stabilized her on the way to Merciful Mother Hospital, where her brother Robb was a surgeon.

Sansa straightened a few books that had been haphazardly tossed onto one of the shelves in her classroom's library corner. A book fell from between the boxes onto the floor. Sighing, she picked it up. It was an elementary level fairy tale story of Florian and Jonquil. It had been one of her favorites as a girl. Sansa used to love the stories of knights and fair maidens. Her mother would roll her blue eyes and smile as Sansa begged each night to have it read to her before bed. She shook her head and stood upright. _Knight and maidens...fairy tale shit. There's nothing but deception and cruelty in the men I meet._ A forgotten picture on her small refrigerator in the back corner of the room caught her eye and flushed her face with anger. _I thought I got rid of all the pictures of he and I_ , she thought. In the picture, Ramsay wore his usual stoic, serious expression. Sansa's arms were flung around his shoulders as she kissed his cheek. She remembered the night the picture was taken. It was last year's Spring Children's Benefit Gala that her parents sponsored every year. Everyone had always said her and Ramsay made a very smart looking couple. _If only they had known_. Sansa ripped the picture from the refrigerator and tore it to pieces before flinging it in the nearest trashcan.

"Saansaaaaa!" Margaery's singsongy voice rang through her classroom. Sansa turned and smiled as her beautiful coworker bound across the room towards her. Tired from a day's work, her brown waves had been pulled back from her face into a high pony tail. Like Sansa, Margaery was a first grade teacher at Crownlands Academy, one of the most prestigious private schools in King's Landing. The girls had met in the teaching program at The University of King's Landing a few years earlier. They quickly bonded over their love of dirty martinis, greasy diner food at midnight, and reading. What cemented the girls' bond was their mutual distaste for Joffrey Lannister. Sansa had dated him during her years as an upper classmen at Crownlands Academy. Their relationship had always been rocky, but it went completely sour during their senior year when Sansa announced her true desire to become a teacher. Joffrey sneered at the idea of Sansa making a pauper's wage compared to what she could have been capable of. Margaery dated him during her freshman year at UKL. She called it quits with him at her grandmother's urging when she learned of the horrible temper the young man had. For Olenna, no spoiled boy who delighted in tormenting others for his pleasure was suitable for her granddaughter. Not long after Margaery and he split up, the truth about Joffrey's parentage came out. Mayor Robert Baratheon needed a kidney transplant and Joffrey was to be his donor...until the testing was done and he was deemed not a match. The Mayor had ordered further DNA testing done and the truth finally came to the surface. Joffrey was a product of incest between his mother Cersei and his uncle, Jaime. Mayor Baratheon was outraged, more so at Cersei than the children he had thought were biologically his all along. The whole ordeal was very public and messy and _quite_ a scandal. He divorced the disgraced Cersei, but vowed to continue supporting the children. Just three years ago, the public had been shocked when Cersei and her three children had been killed in a tragic car accident. Robert Baratheon hand't been the same since. 

Sansa smiled at her dear friend. "How was your afternoon?"

Margaery sighed and lowered herself onto a desktop. "It was ok...Edgar gave me fits during math with double digit addition, but nothing too bad." The young woman pulled at the elastic that held her ponytail and shook her hair free. "What a week! Did you get all your IEP paperwork done?"

Sansa crossed the room to her desk, followed my Margaery. She tucked a few loose papers into a stack and clipped them together. "Yes, I finally finished. Feels good to get that out of the way." Sansa frowned at the clock and glanced at Margaery. "It's nearly 4:30, I figured you would have gone home by now."

Margaery shrugged. "I had to write the reflection for my behaviorism paper and submit it."

"That paper _should_ have been turned in days ago." Sansa scolded.

"I got it done though! It's not due until Sunday anyway!" Margaery exclaimed. Sansa shook her head and smiled. The girls were enrolled in the same online graduate school classes through UKL. In a little over a year's time, they would both graduate with their master's degree in early childhood reading. Sansa's mother and father had been very supportive of her decison to become a teacher. They had encouraged her though to pursue higher degrees to earn a more substantial paycheck.

"What are your plans for tonight?" Margaery leaned her elbows down on Sansa's desk and propped her chin in her hands.

Sansa leaned back in her chair and swiveled from side to side. "No plans, why?" No sooner had she said the words, she realized what Margaery was up to.

Margaery gave Sansa a wicked smirk. "Good! Because you and I are going out for drinks and dancing!" She raised herself up and began swaying her hips and gyrating her arms to imaginary music. The girls had been very mischievous, borderline wild in their college days. Dancing, cocktails, and the opposite sex had been on their agendas almost every weekend during their time at the university. Time and responsibility had subdued their behavior, but Margaery's only marginally.

Sansa shook her head. "Not tonight, I just want to stay in."

Margaery stopped moving and sank to her knees to rest her arms in Sansa's lap. Her full, pink lips pouted. "Please, Sansa?! I will not have you staying home every Friday night to become some old spinster!" Sansa bit her lip, trying to think of another excuse. "We are all caught up on our grad school classes...you have already submitted lesson plans for the next _three weeks_...there is nothing keeping you from going out!"

"It's still too soon..." Sansa reached out and twirled a lock of Margaery's brown hair in her fingers.

Margaery looked lovingly at Sansa. She had been by Sansa's side all during her recovery. Having feared for her friend's life, she had gently scolded the red head for keeping her abuse a secret. "My dear, it has been six months since he hurt you. Six months since he's been in jail. He will never touch you again. What are you still afraid of?" She asked softly.

Sansa shook her head. "You're right, I guess nothing. It's just so hard getting back out there. I feel like I'm damaged goods...what man would want all this emotional baggage?"

Margaery stroked Sansa's cheek and then cupped it in her hand. "One day you will find the man whom the Gods have made just for you. And he will love you for who you are and he will help heal your heart and soul." She grinned wickedly. "And until you find him, we'll just see what kind of shenanigans we can get ourselves into!" She pulled Sansa to her feet.

"What did you have in mind, Margaery?"

"The Tipsy Goat!" Margaery threw her hands in the air and spun in a circle. "DJ Kristian will be there tonight and he always has the best dancing music!"

Sansa scoffed. "The Tipsy Goat?! I haven't been there since our college days!"

Margaery stopped spinning and threw her arms around Sansa. "And I guarantee you it is just as fun now as it was then!" She took Sansa's hands and the two girls spun around in circles. Sansa giggled wildly, letting herself become excited with the idea of going out for the first time in months with her best friend. A male voice interrupted their frivolities.

"It's Friday afternoon, go home, girls!" Tyrion Lannister barked from the doorway. Already long estranged from his older siblings, Tyrion had been the only Lannister not affected by the incest scandal. The short headmaster looked affectionately at the girls. He was a good man, who had nothing but appreciation and respect for two of his most hardworking teachers. "Big plans tonight?"

Margaery grinned at their headmaster. "Sansa and I are going out dancing!"

"Ahh...a night on the town. Where to?" Tyrion asked.

"The Tipsy Goat!" Margaery answered enthusiastically.

Tyrion chuckled and shook his head. He pushed his dark golden hair away from his forehead. "Oh _The Goat_. I'd be lying if I said that place hadn't made me tipsy a time...or two...or hundred...back in my wilder days."

Sansa and Margaery laughed. It was no secret that the headmaster of Crownlands Academy indulged in wine, especially at the benefit dinners and balls.

Tyrion looked at the pair seriously. "Be careful, girls." He gave them a smile and disappeared from view.

Margaery turned to Sansa. "So I need to go home and shower, but I want to come get ready at your place."

Sansa retrieved her Kate Spade purse from her desk drawer. She fished out her keys and sunglasses. "Ok, well just come on over whenever you're done, I need to do the same. I've been sneezed and coughed on more times today than I'd care to think about at this moment." The two girls linked arms and made their way outside into the beautiful, early spring afternoon.

Sansa stepped out of the steamy bathroom and into her massive closet. Her hair was wrapped in a plush, white towel and the rest of her body was bare. Reaching out to her clothes, she drug hangered dress after dress by, unsatisfied with each. Her lips formed a taught line. She wanted to wear something sexy, but classy. Sansa's reflection in her massive, ornate mirror caught her eye. The scar on her torso stood out angry and red against the rest of her otherwise perfect skin. Robb had been the one to make the incision, to fix her collapsed lung, but it was as if Ramsay had plunged the scalpel into her body himself. Sansa traced her fingers over the gruesome reminder. It would be on her body forever. Reminding her always of her horrible judgement of men. Shaking her head in disgust, she reached for her flower printed silk robe. She wrapped the cool fabric around her body and settled in front of her vanity mirror. She heard a key turn in the front door. The only people who had keys to her apartment were her maid, her mother, and Margaery. She guessed it was Margaery.

"Yoo-hoo!" Margaery called out as the door closed.

"In here!" Sansa called from her bathroom. She heard a thud of something heavy being dropped on the floor, followed by clinking in the kitchen. A loud pop of a champagne bottle followed a few minutes later. Margaery appeared in the vanity mirror reflection holding two flutes filled with bubbling champagne.

"Ta-da!" Margaery sang out as she handed Sansa her glass. Sansa accepted the glass and downed its contents. Open mouthed, Margaery stared. Sansa held her flute back up to Margaery.

"More please!"

Margaery shook her head and retrieved the bottle from the kitchen. "Is someone getting sloshed tonight?" She chided.

Sansa hid her smile in her hand. "Maybe...why not?! It's been a while!"

Margaery grinned and tipped the bottle to pour more champagne in her glass. "Yes my dear it has."

The pair talked and gossiped and laughed as they applied their makeup and curled their hair. One of their favorite topics was always Ros and her secret affair. The fun loving and flirtatious sixth grade teacher, Ros was secretly sleeping with Mr. Payne, a third grade teacher who also taught at Crownlands Academy. Margaery shook her hair free of the curling iron she was using. "But would it really be labeled an _affair_? Neither one of them are married."

Sansa was busy applying another coat of mascara to her long, thick lashes. Margaery had done her eyeshadow dark black and smoky, to match the black dress Sansa had finally settled on. She frowned into the mirror. "Well I guess not. What would you call it then?"

Margaery shrugged and sipped from her glass. "I still like the term affair. It sounds risqué and exciting. I don't know what she sees in him...he's a very nice gentleman, but he's so... _goofy looking!"_

Capping her mascara, Sansa laughed and turned to Margaery "Goofy? Oh Margaery, if she's in love with him, looks don't matter one bit. Besides, I think he's rather cute."

Margaery unplugged her curling iron and ran her fingers through her long hair. "Maybe...in a goofy sort of way. Besides, I don't think it's love as much as lust. Ros told he his dick is _huge_." She pulled her t-shirt and shorts off, leaving her in a strapless red lacy bra and matching thong.

"And you were making fun of me for planning on getting drunk tonight...I think you are planning on getting _lucky_." Sansa reached out and poked her friend playfully in the side. Margaery squealed and swatted her hand away. She slipped on a short red dress with a plunging neckline and an open cowl back. Sansa zipped the side zipper of Margaery's dress before pulling on her own short, black dress, adorned with glittering crystals. Once their shoes were on, hairspray way applied again, lipstick touched up, and jewelry fastened, the pair looked at each other in the mirror.

"Who would ever look at us and assume that we were teachers?" Margaery cocked her head to the side and wondered out loud.

Sansa threw her head back and laughed at the thought. "Have you ordered us an Uber yet?"

Margaery looked down at her phone. "He'll be here in three minutes." The girls grabbed their clutches, downed their champagne and headed for the front door.


	2. Chapter Two

It had been at least four years since Sansa had set foot in the bar Margaery had chosen for their night out, but The Tipsy Goat had not changed a bit. Its stone walls, dark atmosphere lit by ornate, medieval sconces and big gothic chandeliers gave the place a middle ages feel. Friday night was ladies night, so the girls did not have to pay a cover charge. They flashed their IDs at the bouncer, who fastened bright red bands on their wrists. Margaery waved to the giant, grey haired DJ, who lifted his chin and smiled at her.  
"That's DJ Kristian! He's cool, in a big brother sort of way!" Margaery explained loudly over the music. Although the bar was starting to get crowded, the girls had no trouble finding barstools and ordering drinks. Sansa and Margaery clinked their martini glasses together. "Cheers, my darling friend." Margaery began. "I love you with all my heart and no matter where our lives take us, I hope that we will always have each other."

Sansa smiled sweetly at Margaery. "I love you too, and I am sure we will always be friends."

Margaery returned the smile before sipping her drink. "I hope so...we know too much about each other." She winked and set her drink down to look around the room. "Ok...where should we begin?" She sized up the prospects. "Are we feeling 'business mixed with pleasure' tonight," she said gesturing to a group of men in suits, their jackets slung over their chairs and ties loosened, "or are we feeling 'sporty' perhaps?" Sansa glanced where Margaery was looking and saw a group of casually dressed men craning their necks up to watch a basketball game on one of the tvs behind the bar. Sansa shook her head at both options and returned to her cocktail. Margaery's nails dug lightly into Sansa's arm. "I know exactly what I'm feeling tonight..." Sansa's eyes followed Margaery's to some men in the corner gathered around a pool table. "I'm in a 'wrong side of the tracks' kinda mood for sure." The men looked a bit rough, but were surprisingly dressed nicely, if that was the sort of style you liked. One had a big red beard that was meticulously groomed, with a full head of hair to match. He wore a red plaid shirt that was unbuttoned to show a white tank underneath and black jeans. Another had a blonde topknot and gauges in his ears so big you could pass a finger through them. The third man sported an eyepatch and a black hoodie with a band logo on it. There was a fourth with them, but Sansa couldn't see his face. The man was so big he stood a head taller than his companions, and his shoulders were broader than any man's she'd ever seen before. His black t-shirt was stretched tight on his torso. He wore faded, loose fitting jeans and heavy looking work boots. Dark brown curls fell to his shoulders.

"Are you going over there now?" Sansa asked, her nervousness showing in her voice.

Margaery took another sip of her martini. "Oh no, we must dance first!" The girls tossed back their drinks and stepped around the other patrons to the dance floor. As they passed the corner where the pool tables were, Sansa snuck another glance at the group of men Margaery had been scoping out. The red head gawked wide eyed and open mouthed as they strode past, and he nudged the taller, long haired man to turn around for a look as well. Embarrassed, Sansa turned back to the direction of the dance floor before the tall man could see her. The bass thumped loud and rhythmically as the girls swayed and shimmied in time with the music. A huge disco ball overhead threw thousands of points of light over the crowd. Sansa and Margaery danced back to back, then turned around to face each other. They pumped their hands in the air to the beat of the music DJ Kristian played. They danced to song after song, laughing wildly and avoiding the advancements of men they did not care for. Out of the corner of her eye, Sansa saw the red bearded man in plaid approach the dance floor. She grabbed Margaery's shoulder and gestured to where he was stepping around people to get to her. Wanting to give Margaery her moment with her bearded mystery fellow, she shouted above the music that she was going to go get another drink. Sansa edged her way through the crowd, but looked back in time to see Margaery take the man's hand as he proceeded to twist her around and into his arms. She smiled at her friend's luck with men. They all seemed to love her, and Margaery loved them back. Although she was a very far cry from a whore, Margaery had been with her fair share of men, but not in an overly promiscuous sort of way. Sansa settled at the bar and waved at the bartender, who immediately brought her another martini. As she made her way to a high top table, Sansa stole another glance at the corner where the pool tables were, but the other three men were not there anymore. Suddenly unnerved by their absence, her eyes darted around the dim room. She was so distracted she did not watch where she was going. Sansa crashed into something big and solid, a wall for all she knew, sending her drink sloshing all over the front of her dress as well as all over whatever she had run into. Apparently whatever she had run into could talk.

"Watch it girl!" A rough voice said from a few inches above her. The man had turned around and was looking down at her.

Sansa abruptly looked up and realized that she had run right into the tall, long haired man. Automatically, she opened her mouth to apologize, but the sight of him made her snap it shut again. The right side of his face was scared and angry looking. The mangled flesh extended from under his hair down to where his neatly trimmed beard started. His hair was swept across his forehead in an attempt to cover his scarred flesh, but it could still be seen under the pulsing strobe lights. The other side of his face was quite handsome, in a dark and sinister way. Intriguing, to say the least, but she averted her eyes anyway. "I beg your pardon sir..." Sansa's voice was almost inaudible above the music, but the man seemed to have heard her just fine.  
"I am not a sir, girl...I am a bit wet though at this point." The man said gruffly, with a tiny hint of amusement in his voice.

My drink... "I am so sorry, I must have not been watching where I was going. And now I've wasted a perfectly good drink." Sansa said sourly.

The big man held his highball glass up to her face. "Would you like mine, girl?"

The brown liquid wafted up to Sansa's nose. She made a face. "Ugh! What is that, whiskey?!"

The big man laughed. "Well, yea..." He replied as if he were confused that she would think it would be something else. He raised the glass to his mouth and swallowed the remaining contents of the glass. He put the glass down on a table next to Sansa's empty martini glass. "Now both our drinks are gone. Would you like another one, girl?"

Sansa sighed, exasperated. "I am not a girl!" She looked around, trying to remember where the bathrooms were. "And I was actually just going to the restroom. Perhaps later, sir."

The big man chucked. "And I am not a sir, remember? I guess we should probably exchange names since neither of us like what the other is saying."

Sansa stole another meek look at the man's face. He was a fearsome sight to behold. The scars were terrible, but Sansa thought it was more of his imposing size that made him frightening to look at. Seemingly reading her thoughts, the big man spoke. "What...do I frighten you so much, girl?"

Sansa shook her head and forced her eyes to stay trained on his. "No, si- ...no." She straightened up, not wanting to seem affected by him. "My name is Sansa Stark." She held her hand out, waiting for his introduction.

The man grasped her hand in his own. It was a big and rough, calloused from years of hard manual labor. It definitely wasn't the soft hand of the corporate type Sansa was used to associating with. "Sandor Clegane." Sandor narrowed his eyes. "Stark, as in Stark Enterprises?"

Sansa's father was CEO of Stark Enterprises. He was president of the Trident Bank and all its smaller branches, and funded several ventures in the global communication technologies and eco agriculture as well. "Yes, as in Stark Enterprises." Sansa fiddled with the clasp on her clutch as she felt his eyes studying her. "Well, it was lovely to meet you, Sandor. If you'll excuse me..." Sansa stepped clumsily around the table towards the restroom. She glanced over her shoulder at Sandor. He was smirking at her in a most unusual way. The whole encounter with the man with the scarred face left her nerves rattled. Sansa reached the bathroom door and darted inside.

Once refreshed, Sansa entered the main room of the bar and made a beeline to the bar. As she waited for the bartender to look her way, Sansa looked around for Margaery. She was not surprised to see her still on the dance floor with the red bearded man. She watched Margaery bump and grind her bottom into the bearded man's crotch. Sansa giggled to herself and rolled her eyes. As she watched, she didn't realize that a man had approached her side. Sandor rested his elbow on the bar next to Sansa.

"Well, it's later. Would you like that drink now?"

Sansa jerked her head towards him, startled by his sudden presence. "No thank you. I'm fine."

Sandor laughed and waved at the bartender. "Well you're at the bar now, what else would you be doing here except to get a drink?"

Defeated, Sansa conceded. "Fine. I'll take a dirty martini. Three olives."

"A martini?" Sandor heaved a mocking laugh. "Oh you're fancy?"

Sansa hid her smile in her shoulder as Sandor placed her drink in front of her. "A fancy drink for a fancy woman." Sandor had opted for a beer this time. He sipped from the long neck bottle. 

"What do you do?"

Sansa fished the olive spear from her drink. "I teach first grade at Crownlands Academy."

"A teacher, eh? Are you a naughty school teacher?" Sandor probed with a wicked grin on his face.

Feigning being appalled, Sansa cried out. "Of course not! I'm a...just a teacher." Sansa realized how stupid she sounded, but her nerves wouldn't let her wit be as quick as usual. She abruptly raised her drink to her lips to avoid having to say anything else.

Sandor watched her gulp her martini with an amused look on his face. "How about I get you a drink that lasts more than three sips?" Once Sansa agreed, he ordered Sansa a beer and handed it to her. "So you're a teacher."

Sansa put the bottle to her lips and let some of the sour liquid run down her throat. She liked beer, but it wasn't her favorite. She preferred wine or a cocktail, but beer would have to do for now. "Yes. I love my job."

The good corner of Sandor's lips curled into a smirk. He leaned close to Sansa. "If I had a teacher who looked like you, I might have paid better attention during school."

Sansa's heart skipped a beat. Did he think she was attractive? Surely not... she thought. Sansa knew she was definitely not this man's type. "What is it that you do, Sandor Clegane?"

"I'm a mechanic. I work in a shop downtown." Sandor took a gulp of beer. "It's not the most glamorous lifestyle, but it pays the bills. Hey, I think my buddy Tormund's got your friend over by the pool tables. Wanna walk over there?"

Sansa looked over in the corner where the pool tables were. Sure enough, Margaery was leaned over a pool table holding a cue stick. The red bearded man's body was right behind hers, his hands guiding her into position. As Sansa and Sandor approached the group, Margaery jabbed the stick at the cue ball. She hit the white ball, but that was about it. She leaned up. "Well, I never claimed to be a billiards champion, boys!" The men laughed loudly, the red bearded man in particular.

"That's ok, doll. I still say you've earned a shot!" Sansa heard the bearded man say. His voice was deep and gravelly. "Your friend want one?"

Margaery turned. "Sansa!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around her. "This is Tormund," she said patting the red bearded man on his big shoulder, "and this is Thoros and Beric." Margaery held her hand out towards the pair of seated men.

Sansa smiled at the men. "Very nice to meet you all."

Margaery gave Sansa a coy smile and looked at Sandor standing behind her. "And who do we have here?" She asked with a wink.

Sansa blushed furiously. The drinks she had already consumed weren't helping her flushed face. "This is Sandor."

Margaery smiled. "Hello." She turned to Tormund. "And yes, my friend would like a shot!"

Tormund grinned. "Clegane, Vegas Bomb?"

Sandor nodded. "Sure." Tormund disappeared in the direction of the bar.

Margaery hooked her arm in Sansa's and she turned them away from the men. "Tormund is in a band." She whispered. "A rock band! Isn't that exciting?! How did you and your man meet?"

Sansa glanced back at Sandor. He had taken the billiards stick and was edging around the table, eyeing the position of the balls. "He's not my man...I accidentally spilled my drink on him!"

Margaery giggled. "He's quite tall. Perfect for you."

Sansa scoffed. "I don't think I'm his type."

Margaery squeezed her shoulders. "What, you think his type isn't beautiful women?"

Sansa shook her head. "He's not really my type either."

"When has your type ever brought you happiness, Sansa?" Margaery asked. "He can't take his eyes off of you. He could at least be a rebound."

Sansa turned again to see Sandor was indeed staring at her, intensely. His eyes seemed to penetrate somewhere deep within her. She blushed again and turned back to Margaery. "We've only just met, Margaery. I've been out of the game so long I don't think I'm making a very good impression."

Margaery shrugged. "Suit yourself, darling. I think I've been making a rather good impression." She fluffed her hair as Tormund appeared with a tray of shot glasses.

The rest of the night was a blur for Sansa. Shots, dancing, loud music, talking and laughing with the rough men Margaery had found. The cold night air was a pleasant shock to her sweaty skin. She was acutely aware that she was draped across a large man's arms. She could hear Margaery's laughing voice. The last thing Sansa remembered was being lowered into a car. Then everything went black.


	3. Chapter Three

The bright light of morning accosted Sansa's eyes as she cracked them open. She looked up and recognized the light grey tufted headboard of her king size bed. _Thank the Gods I'm in my own bed_. She heard someone snoring softly next to her. Fear clutched her chest as she covered her eyes. _No no no...I couldn't possibly have..._ Sansa uncovered her eyes and glanced to her right. Light brown waves were spread out on the pillow next to hers. Sansa let out a relieved breath of air she had been holding. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and looked around. Their dresses and shoes were strewn all over the floor. The alarm clock next to her bed read 11:15. Her head was aching a bit, but she surprisingly did not feel that terrible. Something written on her left hand caught Sansa's eye. She squinted and looked closely at her hand. Numbers in the form of a phone number came into focus. Margaery stirred when she felt Sansa moving.

"Good morning, love." Margaery mumbled. "How do you feel?"

Sansa turned to her friend. "Better than I think I deserve." She held her hand up to Margaery. "What exactly is _this_?"

"Let's start by talking about what exactly you _remember_."

Sansa rubbed her eyes. "We were hanging out with those guys..."

"Tormund, Sandor, Beric and Thoros." Margaery said.

"Yes, and we were playing pool, we took shots...and then...the next thing I remember we were getting into a car and now we're here."

Margaery laughed and leaned up against the headboard. "Oh Sansa...first of all, you didn't get into the car. Sandor had to carry you."

Sansa snapped her head towards Margaery. " _What_?!"

Margaery looked at Sansa. "Unfortunately...that's not the worst part..."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Go on...let's hear it."

"You threw up on Sandor."

_"WHAT?!"_

Margaery hid her face in her hands and continued laughing. "Girl, so Sandor went outside to smoke a cigarette and you said you needed some fresh air, so you went with him. Well at that point, I figured it was time for us to leave anyway, so I paid my tab and went outside to find you. I came out just in time to see you lean over and vomit all over Sandor's boots."

Sansa shook her head. "No no no, this isn't happening! Was he angry?"

Margaery shook her head. "He was actually rather doting. He held your hair back and wiped your face with a bandanna he had in his pocket. Sandor sent Tormund back inside to close your tab, He didn't want to leave you alone."

"Oh Gods, my bar tab! How much was it?"

Margaery shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, but Sandor paid it."

Sansa threw her head back on her pillow and shook it from side to side. "So I threw up on Sandor, he had to pay my bar tab, _and_ carry me to the Uber car. Now I _know_ there's no way this is his number."

Margaery threw back the covers and headed for the kitchen. "Ooh, but it is."

Sansa scrambled out of the bed after her. "What do you mean?"

Margaery opened the refrigerator and retrieved two Diet Cokes. She handed one to Sansa and opened the other for herself. "I mean, that's his number on your hand. When he put you in the Uber, you insisted that the driver give you a pen. You wrote your number on Sandor's hand and then he wrote his on yours. Very _romantic_." Margaery teased.

Sansa leaned her forehead down on the cool kitchen counter. "Well, there's no way I'll ever hear from him. If someone threw up on me, I definitely wouldn't text them the next day." She opened her can and took a few sips. The ice cold liquid burned in the most satisfying way as it settled in her stomach.

Margaery shook her head as she looked at Sansa's phone which had been discarded on the kitchen counter the night before. "I wouldn't jump to that conclusion just yet." She pushed the phone towards Sansa.

She picked it up and squinted at the screen.

" _'Did you two make it home ok? -Sandor.'_ " Sansa read out loud. "He was just making sure we made it home." She took her phone and her drink into the living room and flopped down on the big grey sectional. Margaery curled up next to her under a blanket. Sansa pulled part of the blanket over onto her legs. "Those scars on his face though..." Her voice trailed off.

Margaery clasped Sansa's hand in hers. "Now now...didn't you just last night tell me that 'looks don't matter? Remember? When we were talking about Ros and Pod? Even with the scars, he's rather good looking. _Especially_ with the scars."

Sansa absentmindedly ran her fingers through the fringe that trimmed the blanket. "It doesn't matter anyway. He wasn't into me. Not like that." She raised her phone to unlock it.

"What are you doing?" Margaery demanded.

"I'm deleting his text."

Margaery snatched the phone from her hands. "Oh no you don't!" She turned her back to Sansa. A minute later, she handed the phone back to her friend. Sansa looked at the screen and saw that Margaery had saved his number as 'Sandor' with a black heart Emoji next to it. Margaery jumped to her feet when she heard her own phone ringing from the bedroom. Sansa heard her purr a hello as she answered it. While Margaery was giggling and talking in the bedroom, Sansa debated on texting Sandor back. Against her better judgement, she opened the conversation and started typing.

_'Yes, we made it back fine. Thank you for everything. Margaery told me you paid my tab. Please let me know how much I owe you. Sooo sorry about your boots. I'll pay to have them cleaned.'_

Before Sansa could change her mind, she hit the send button. Margaery entered the living room and threw herself down next to Sansa.

"You and I are going out again tonight."

Sansa shook her head. "Absolutely not...I couldn't possibly again-"

Margaery cut her off. "No no, it will be very low-key. Tormund's band is playing at The Green Dragon and he's asked if we would like to come watch."

Sansa sighed. "Will Sandor be there?" She asked, trying to hide the hopeful tone in her voice.

"I don't know, he didn't say." Sansa's phone alerted her to an incoming text. The girls both looked at the screen. "Why don't you ask him yourself?" She smirked playfully.

_'Glad to hear it. Don't worry about the tab, and don't worry about the boots. They've had worse on them lol. Planning on going out again tonight?'_

Sansa typed her reply. ' _Your friend Tormund has invited Margaery to watch his band play tonight. She's trying to talk me into going. Will you be there to watch?'_ Sansa's heart involuntary raced as she waited for a reply.

_'No, I'm busy tonight, won't be there to watch.'_

"Well, what did he say?" Margaery asked.

"He says he's busy tonight."

Margaery stuck her lower lip out. "Well that's too bad. Will you come with me anyway?" Sansa groaned and laid her head on the arm of the sectional. _"Pleeeaaassseee?"_

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Oh alright...but I am not taking any shots!"

Margaery bounced up and down on the couch in excitement. "Well then, I have some preparing to do! Come down to my apartment later and help me pick out an outfit! Tormund is in a rock band, so I have to look _edgy_."

" _Edgy?_ " Sansa repeated, mockingly.

"Yes! I think I might like him! He's not really like any man I've dated before! And his beard..." Margaery feigned fainting on the couch. Sansa giggled at her friend's excitement.

"I've got some errands to run, Margaery. What time do you want me to meet you?"

Margaery pursed her lips together and thought. "Well the band starts playing at six...meet me about four?"

Sansa nodded her head. Margaery squealed with excitement and kissed her friend's cheek before gathering her things to go home.

Sansa spent part of her afternoon at the gym in her apartment complex. She channeled her embarrassment of last night on the treadmill. She couldn't decide how she felt about Sandor, but she thought for sure he did not want to see her again, especially after he told her he would not be attending his friend's concert. _If he had wanted to see me again, he would have offered to meet me tonight,_ she reasoned to herself. Once she was satisfied that she had run off all the beer she had drank at The Tipsy Goat, she walked down the street to Ulta and spend the rest of the afternoon testing new lipstick colors. _Maybe I could look edgy tonight too_. She settled on a dark wine colored lip stain that the makeup consultant assured her would look stunning with her hair color. Back in her apartment, Sansa pawed through her clothes, trying to figure out what would look appropriate for a rock concert. Sansa liked rock music, but more of the alternative variety. She preferred trendy pop music, but figured it might be good to branch out a bit. Once she was showered and fresh, she tried on outfit after outfit, none of which amused her. "It's not like Sandor will be there to impress, anyway." Sansa grumbled to herself. She settled on a pair of ripped dark wash jeans and an oversized black crop top that revealed her midsection. She slipped her feet into her black wedges and packed her makeup bag to take downstairs to Margaery's apartment.

Margaery greeted Sansa as she entered her friend's bathroom. Like Sansa, Margaery favored light colored interiors. But unlike Sansa, whose apartment was decorated in a shabby chic style, Margaery had opted for a more sleek, modern feel.

"You look hot." Margaery complimented Sansa's outfit choice.

Sansa looked down and tugged at the top. "Thanks." She muttered. "I need some earrings. Do you have any burgundy ones, to match my new lipstick?"

"I'm sure I do, look in my jewelry box."

Sansa chose a pair of dark red chandelier earrings with black crystals. Margaery did Sansa's makeup and then her own. Margaery shadowed her eyes dark and winged her eyeliner longer than usual. It did make her look a bit more edgy.

"Ok, love...I have narrowed it down to two outfits." Margaery entered her closet to change.

"Only two? Whenever you meet a new man you usually have several more to choose from." Sansa teased.

Margaery came back into the bathroom wearing an emerald green strapless top that hung loose around her midsection. She had on black skinny jeans and green pumps that matched her top. "This one...or..." She reached back into the closet and pulled out a tan sweater dress and held up brown suede over the knee high heel boots. "...this one?"

Sansa shook her head. "I like what you're wearing now."

Margaery grinned and threw the sweater dress and boots back into her closet. Margaery eyed Sansa, who was frowning to herself in the mirror. "Are you bummed Sandor won't be there to watch tonight?"

Sansa shrugged and made a face. "No, not really I guess."

Unconvinced, Margaery cocked her head to side and narrowed her eyes.

Sansa ran her fingers through her straight red hair. "Ok, maybe a little. I haven't heard anything else from him today."

Margaery positioned her crossbody purse on her hip and put her hands on Sansa's shoulders. "Well you and I will have a good time anyway." She smiled.

One glass of wine and a fifteen minute Uber ride later, the girls were seated at a table near the stage at The Green Dragon. This bar had an industrial feel, with brick walls and exposed duct work. Strings of lights crisscrossed the ceiling. The stage was set up with drums, a keyboard, and two guitars. Sansa wondered which one Tormund played. The girls ordered some cheeseburgers and a pitcher of Michelob Ultra, which was really the only beer Sansa cared to drink. "What's this band's name, anyway?" Sansa asked Margaery.

"Midnight Envy." Margaery replied.

" _Midnight Envy..._ " Sansa echoed. She reached into her purse and checked her phone.

"Nothing from Sandor?"

Sansa shook her head.

Margaery patted her hand. "Awe cheer up, darling. You'll see him again."

The lights dimmed a bit and the crowd that had gathered in The Green Dragon clapped and whistled.

Tormund strutted on stage and threw his hands up in the air, which stirred the crowd louder. "Thank you, thank you for coming out tonight folks! We're Midnight Envy!" He picked up his guitar and turned an outstretched hand towards the rest of the band members who were making their way on stage. Thoros sat down behind the drum set. Beric stepped up behind the keyboard. Sansa almost spit out her beer when she saw who was picking up the other guitar. Sandor Clegane, dressed in ripped jeans and a tight white t-shirt was slipping the strap of the bass guitar around his massive shoulders.


	4. Chapter Four

**Now this would be a show I would pay big money to watch! Thank you so much for all the comments! I love to read them and I love hearing your thoughts on the chapters! Please let me know what you think! Happy reading xoxo**

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Only acutely aware of how silly she must look, Sansa gawked open mouthed at Sandor. His eyes found hers and he winked. Her face flushed crimson and butterflies filled her stomach. She turned to Margaery.

"You failed to mention that Sandor was in the band..."

Margaery giggled and put her hands up. "I'm sorry, love! SURPRISE!"

"A little warning would have been nice, I would have dressed cuter!" Sansa hissed through her teeth.

"Oh stop, you look fabulous. Besides, I really think he's only got eyes for you tonight." Margaery gestured at the band. Sansa rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the stage. Sandor was staring intently at Sansa as he tuned his guitar. Sansa lowered her head. She bit her lip and looked back up at Sandor though her long eyelashes. She could swear she heard him groan above the commotion in the room.

Sandor drug his pick across the strings of his black guitar. The sound vibrated and echoed through the room. The rest of the members joined in as they began to play their first song. Sansa was a little surprised at how much she liked their music. It was very close to the music of Shinedown, or Seether, both of which she kept on her ipod. Sandor was mesmerizing to watch. His fingers expertly worked the strings to produced the thumping bass sounds that left her feeling breathless. Between the fourth and fifth song, Sandor unshouldered his guitar and pulled his white t-shirt over his head to reveal the most masculine upper body Sansa had ever seen. While Ramsay had been moderately muscled and bare chested, Sandor was built like the Warrior in flesh. Hair spread over his huge pectoral muscles and trailed lightly down his chiseled six pack. Sansa could see the band of his black Under Armor underwear peeking out above his brown leather belt. Sandor used his shirt to wipe his chest and forehead, which were both glistening with sweat. Sansa gripped Margaery's arm as the two girls stared stupidly at the bass player's gorgeous body. From two tables down, Sansa heard an obnoxiously loud screaming female voice.

"SANDOOOR, YEEAAA BABY! WHOOOO!"

Sansa leaned over and looked at the noise maker. The woman was dressed in a tight leopard print mini dress that was so short, Sansa was sure her ass would fall out at any minute. She had on thigh high black boots and her hair was bleach blonde. Cheap red lipstick and blue eyeshadow made her look even more tacky. She pulled the top of her dress down briefly to reveal a set of breasts that were in no way Gods given. Sansa quickly looked away back to Sandor. He grinned at the trashy woman and tipped his chin up at her. She was still waving her hands wildly in the air. Sandor launched the sweaty white t-shirt through the air to the woman. She caught it and squealed with delight, waving it around to show the rest of the girls she was with. Sansa rolled her eyes again at the woman. _Gross_ , she though to herself as the band began to play again. After two more songs, the band took a break. Tormund jumped down from the stage and walked right to Margaery, who jumped up to welcome him with open arms. He wrapped his around her and dipped her so low her hair almost touched the ground. Tormund planted a kiss right on her mouth. Margaery responded to the kiss by clinging to the black of his neck and throwing a leg towards the ceiling. Sansa smiled at the pair and turned to the stage just in time to see Sandor disappear behind the curtain. Tormund greeted Sansa after sitting down and pulling Margaery into his lap.

"Glad you made it out, Sansa! Are you enjoying everything?"

Sansa nodded. "Yes, your music is great! Who wrote your songs?"

"Mostly me. Beric helps some." Tormund replied. "I produce music for a living, so it's just a bonus that I can write my own music and sing."

"Oh wow, that's awesome!" Sansa said. She saw Beric and Thoros begin to mingle with the crowd and turned to see if Sandor had come out as well. She saw him descending the steps on the side of the stage. He had put on a fresh white t-shirt. Immediately, the trashy blonde woman approached Sandor and flung her arms around his shoulders. She stood on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek. Sansa continued to watch them from her peripheral vision, pretending not to have seen him. Sandor gave her lackluster smile and took her arms away from his neck. He leaned on stage and placed a hand on the woman's hip. She leaned into him and whispered flirtatiously into his hear while twisting a lock of his hair between her fingers. Sandor looked at her and shook his head, mouthing some words Sansa couldn't hear. Sandor left the girl with a pouty expression on her face as he walked towards Sansa. From a nearby table, Sandor grabbed a chair and swung it towards the table where Sansa sat. He straddled the chair and put his forearms on its back.

"Number one fan?" Sansa asked, nodding her head towards the trashy woman, who was now glaring daggers at Sansa.

Reaching for the pitcher of beer, Sandor chuckled and filled up Sansa's glass and drank from it. "No, not really."

Sansa smiled shyly and looked down at Sandor's boots. The boots she had thrown up on the night before had been replaced with brown, square toed cowboy boots. She caught Sandor's eye. "I am so sorry about your boots..."

"It's not a big deal, I hosed them off and left them to dry on my porch."

Pursing her lips together, Sansa thought of what else she had done the night before that could have been potentially offensive to Sandor. "How much was my tab? Please let me pay you-"

Sandor's rough voice cut her off. "Save your chirping courtesies, girl. It was nothing." He reached for the pitcher again to refill the glass he had emptied. "Consider this your payment." He smirked.

"Well then let me buy you another pitcher at least." Sansa raised herself from the table and smiled. Sandor followed her to the bar. A crowd of people pushed them closer together as they picked their way across the room. Fingers that belonged to Sandor brushed lightly against the small of her back as he guided her. Shivers radiated down her spine brought on by his touch. When they reached the bar, Sansa leaned on the edge and waved to the bartender and slid the empty pitcher towards her. Suddenly, she felt the presence of Sandor's two large, muscular arms leaning on either side of her elbows as he stood behind her. Sandor's breath stirred Sansa's hair and she could feel the heat from his body behind her. _Say something, you idiot!_ Sansa thought sharply to herself. Realization hit her and she whirled around to face him.

"Hey wait a minute! You lied to me...you told me you weren't going to be here tonight!"

A smile tugged at the corner of Sandor's mouth. "I told you I would not be here to watch tonight. I'm not watching, I'm playing. So technically I told you the truth." Leaning close to her, he whispered in her ear. "Are you glad I'm here though?"

The raspiness of his voice triggered tingles beginning in her stomach that quickly spread out to her limbs. She bit her lip and nodded her head. Sandor's hand curled into a fist and he pressed it against the bar. He was leaning in to whisper something else when a nasal, whiny female voice stopped him.

"Sandor, there you are!"

Before Sansa could turn around, the trashy blonde woman approached and set her hand on the bar between Sansa and Sandor. Wide eyed and embarrassed, Sansa turned her body slightly and gave the woman room. Cheap smelling perfume assaulted Sansa's nose. At least it was evident that Sandor did not enjoy her company, because for the second time that night, Sandor removed her hand from where it was. Stepping back, the woman gave Sansa a quick once-over.

"Who's ya friend?"

Sandor cleared his throat and spoke. "Sansa this is Daisy. Daisy, this is Sansa Stark."

Not usually one to forget her manners, Sansa offered Daisy her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you." With her nose wrinkled, Daisy looked at Sansa's hand and turned back to Sandor.

"So a bunch of us are going to the pony afterwards. Wanna come?" Using her upper arms, Daisy squeezed her breasts together to show off her cleavage.

Darkness clouded Sandor's eyes. "I already told you, _no_."

Daisy leaned close to Sandor who countered her advance by leaning back a bit. "Awe c'mon baby...just for old time's sake?"

"I said no, so _fuck off!_ " Sandor barked. Daisy stepped back and poked her lip out. She reached for Sandor one last time. " _SCRAM!_ " Sandor's voice was loud and rough. Clearly he had had all he could take of this Daisy woman and her flirting. Fists clenched and heels hitting hard on the floor, Daisy stormed off.

Sansa blew out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. She looked at Sandor. "Ex-girlfriend?"

" _HAH!_ No, not exactly. Daisy and I had a bit of fun, went out a few times after I split with my ex about a year ago."

Sandor grasped the handle of the beer pitcher and poured himself a glass. "I guess she could be considered a rebound, if anything. Apparently she still can't take no for no for an answer."

"Still?" Sansa asked for clarification.

Giving his head a shake, Sandor explained, "I told that bitch from the get go that I didn't want any kind of relationship with her. But she kept on trying to get with me. We haven't really hung out in about two or three months. Our paths cross here and there, she comes to hear us play, but she just can't take a hint."

Nodding, Sansa reached for the pitcher to fill her glass. "How long were you and your ex together?" She held her breath and hoped she hadn't struck a nerve with her question.

Sandor pressed his lips into a line. "We dated for a little over four years. She cheated on me for some pretty boy cunt, left me, left the dog, left the apartment, left everything." Running his fingers through his hair and sweeping it away from his face to reveal his scars, he continued. "Guess she couldn't stand to look at the ugly Hound anymore." Although his voice was rough, Sadness was etched into his face. Until Sandor had shown her his scars again, Sansa actually realized she had forgotten all about them.

Trying desperately to change the topic, Sansa inquired about the name he called himself. "Hound?"

"Hah, yea, you don't remember the guys calling me that last night?" Sandor teased. "No, I guess you wouldn't, would you. They've been calling me that for years."

"So... _Hound_...you're a mechanic. Do you work on cars?"

"If they run on diesel fuel." Judging the confusion on Sansa's face, Sandor elaborated. "I'm a diesel mechanic. I mostly work on big trucks and their engines, fix whatever is wrong with them. I inspect the brake systems, transmissions, steering mechanisms, and basically all other vehicle parts."

"So if my car broke down, you would be able to fix it?"

Sandor barked a rough laugh. "What, _Daddy Stark_ wouldn't just go buy you a new one?"

_He's mocking me..._ Sansa thought as she narrowed her eyes. "Actually, I make payments on my _own_ car with my _own_ money." She stuck her chin defiantly higher than it had been.

"Calm down, little bird. I was only joking. What kind of car do you have?"

"I have a 2016 Lex-"

"Clegane! Hey Hound!" Tormund's voice rose above the noise in the bar. "Let's go!"

Sandor nodded, then turned back to Sansa. "On I go." He traced a finger lightly down Sansa's cheek. Heat rose in her face where he had touched her and her pulse quickened. "Will you stay after the show?"

_Yes, of course I will!_ Sansa wanted to scream. But she knew she had to play it cool. "Sure." She replied, with a smirk. Giving her a quick wink, Sandor filled his glass once more and disappeared into the crowd.

Moments later, Sansa rejoined Margaery at their table. "Sooo...what all did you and Sandor talk about?" Margaery asked.

"Oh, this and that..." Leaning towards Margaery, Sansa lowered her voice. " _He told me about his ex_..."

Gasping, Margaery leaned closer. "He's opened the _ex file_ already?! Fascinating...what do you know so far?!"

"Well...apparently they dated for over four years. Lived together and everything. She _cheated_ on him. Broke his heart, from the sound of it."

Margaery clicked her tongue and stretched her mouth into a sad frown. "Awe, poor thing..."

The rest of the concert was just as good as the first half. Margaery and Sansa stood in front of the stage and swayed and rocked to the rhythm of their music. Sansa wasn't able to take her eyes off of Sandor. Something about him stirred something deep inside of her. Something she wasn't sure she had ever felt before. She tried to think back and remember if she had felt similarly with Joffrey or Ramsay. When she had first gotten together with Joffrey, she was so young. Her girlish fantasies of the young and handsome blonde paled in comparison to the dark and carnal emotions that were awakening inside her because of Sandor.

Towards the end, Tormund grasped the microphone in his hand and took a deep breath.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we all can't thank you enough for coming out tonight. I'd like to end with a song that is brand new...never played it in public. Since this is the song's debut, I'd like to dedicate it to a special lady." Upon hearing his last words, half of the women in The Green Dragon screamed and jumped up and down, assuming the song was meant for them. But Tormund raised his fingers to his lips, looked right at Margaery, and blew her a kiss and winked. Margaery clutched her hands together at her chest and grinned at Sansa. They giggled at each other and slipped their arms over each other's shoulders to enjoy the moment together. Tormund's deep, steady voice carried the melody across the room.

_"Angel, take me away...fly this man as high as you can into the dark blue...set me free, oh I pray...closer to the heavens above and closer to you..."_ He extended his arm out and pointed his finger at Margaery, who squealed with delight.

Sansa became aware of eyes watching her. She stole a glance at Sandor who was watching her as he worked his fingers up and down the neck of the guitar. So intense was his gaze that Sansa found herself breathless. Breaking eye contact was impossible as she watched his smoldering eyes roam her body. Although they were nowhere near touching each other at that particular moment, it had to be one of the most intimate moments for Sansa in her whole life. Never had she experienced these strong emotions that were making her body tremble.

"Thank you again folks...I'm Tormund Giantsbane, lead guitar and vocals; Beric Dondarrion, keyboard and backup vocals; Thoros Myr, drums; and Sandor "The Hound" Clegane, bass guitar...we're Midnight Envy! Thank you and goodnight" Sansa clapped her hands furiously as the curtain dropped. She stood among the cheering audience and anxiously awaited Sandor's appearance on the stairs leading from the stage. He approached her with a half grin on his face. To Sansa's surprise, Sandor put his arms around her in a tight embrace. Responding to the sudden closeness, Sansa put her arms around his back and felt his muscles ripple beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, which was damp from perspiration. Sansa inhaled deeply. His scent was an intoxicating mixture of sweat, a hint of cologne, and pure masculinity. Sandor pulled away and looked down at Sansa.

"I've got to go help the guys load our equipment in the van, but I'll be back." He angled his hear towards hers and gently pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. " _Don't go anywhere..."_

Unaware that Daisy had been watching the whole exchange between her and Sandor, Sansa went to find Margaery at their table. "I need to go use the restroom, be right back." Margaery smiled and nodded as she puckered her lips into a compact mirror and applied lip gloss. Sansa wandered around the edge of bar until she found the ladies room. Once relieved and refreshed, Sansa washed her hands and looked thoughtfully at herself in the mirror. She wondered what Sandor saw in her, if anything. Could there be something there? Sansa heard restroom door swing open. There stood Daisy, looking none too pleased at Sansa. She sauntered to the sink and reached across Sansa's body, pushing her out of the way, to pump soap into her hand.

"You know...Sandor will never go for a girl like you." She said, icily.

Sansa had averted her eyes from Daisy's, but when she heard those words, her head snapped up to face her. "What makes you think he hasn't already gone for me?"

A loud guffaw escaped Daisy's throat as she threw her head back. "Oh Gods girl! Sandor would never be satisfied with you! You look like a stuck up bitch. I bet you're some kind of secretary, the kind who gets on her knees for her prick boss."

Anger flushed Sansa's face. "I'm a _teacher!"_ She spat.

Once more, Sansa found herself looking at Daisy's molars as the woman laughed out loud. "That's even worse!" After her laughter subsided, Daisy narrowed her eyes and took a step towards Sansa. She held her hands up for emphasis as she spoke and stepped closer again. "Now listen here...Sandor and I belong together, and there is no way that I'm going to give him up for some snobby-"

A sharp voice interrupted her _. "HEY!"_ Both women jerked their heads towards the door and saw Margaery. She strode quickly to where Daisy was threatening Sansa and grabbed her wrist. Margaery pushed her roughly up against a stall door and put her nose in her face. "My friend might not be the type of woman who will scrap, but I am. Beat it, bitch! I better not ever catch you talking to her again!"

Hoping to intimidate Margaery, Daisy glared at her, and jerked her hand from Margaery's grasp. She pushed past them through the door.

"Oh my Gods, girl are you ok?!" Margaery threw her arms around Sansa in a protective embrace. As she nodded, Sansa returned the hug. Margaery pulled Sansa away from her and held her at arm's length. "Who _was_ that skank?!"

With trembling lips, Sansa answered. "Some girl that apparently wants to be with Sandor. He referred to her as a 'rebound'."

Margaery pursed her lips together. "Well does he want her, though, is the question?"

"No." When she decided her answer didn't sound very convincing, Sansa continued. "No, he told me he had no interest in her." Sansa waited for Margaery to finish in the bathroom before they entered the main room again. Shouts from the bar area drew their attention. Making a spectacle of herself by waving her arms in the air and screaming obscenities at Sandor, was Daisy.

"Oh Gods...how embarrassing..." Margaery muttered to Sansa as they walked back to their table where Tormund, Beric and Thoros were waiting. Sansa's eyes lingered on Sandor and Daisy. Now furious that Daisy had began to push him in his chest, Sandor grabbed her hands and snatched them roughly behind her back. A loud whistle from his lips alerted the bouncer, who came to his aid. He took Daisy by the shoulders and led her outside. Sansa could see Sandor asking the bartender for something. Probably her credit card. He took the card, scribbled on a receipt, and followed the bouncer outside. The bouncer was stuffing Daisy into a taxi. Sansa craned her neck to see through the big front window. Frustrated at the altercation, Sandor handed Daisy her card and slammed the taxi door. Angrily, she mouthed some words to Sandor. In response, Sandor leaned down and stuck his forefinger in her face as he returned some words. He leaned up and thumped his fist twice on the top of the taxi. As the car pulled away, Daisy stuck her hands out the window and held up her middle fingers. But Sandor had already turned to head back inside. Shaking his head, he pulled up a chair and sat between Sansa and Tormund, who had Margaery in her lap.

"Ol Daisy giving you trouble again, eh?" Beric chided Sandor as he poured himself a beer.

"The bitch is crazy." Sandor grumbled to the group, who lauged in return.

Over the next half hour, Sansa laughed and drank and got to know her new friends. They were indeed a rather eclectic group of men. Sansa learned that Beric also worked at the garage with Sandor. He had served in the military, where he had lost his eye in a fight with a Braavosi mercenary. Thoros had discovered his love of yoga while traveling abroad in Essos. He taught hot yoga classes at a gym near the Blackwater.

"Oh Sansa and I love to do yoga!" Exclaimed Margaery. Thoros grinned and fished two business cards out of his wallet and handed them to the girls.

"Stop by then, have a free class on me!"

Sansa smiled and pocketed the card.

"My goal in life...dear Sansa," Thoros began. His words drew chuckles and eye rolls from the other men. "...my goal is to find a woman who has perfected the Meereenese Knot. Would you happen to know anyone with those qualifications?"

Before Sansa could answer, Sandor leaned across her and spoke to Thoros. "I don't think women who know how to do that bloody sex position are the kind of company that this one here would keep." Satisfied with his tease, Sandor sat back.

Unconsciously, Sansa bit her lip as she turned to Sandor. "What makes you think I wouldn't be that kinda of woman?" Her response triggered _'oooohhhs'_ from the rest of the group.

However, Sandor was transfixed on her lips, the bottom one still grasped in her teeth. Slowly, she let her lip slide back into its usual position. A guttural growl erupted from Sandor's throat. "You ought not to do that, girl..."

"Do what?" Whispered Sansa.

"Alright then, it's still early...Margaery and I are going to The Goat for a little bit! Who's in?" Tormund exclaimed as he threw his hands up in the air. "Thoros, Beric?"

Beric stubbed out a cigarette he had been smoking. "Thoros and I have to go take the van back to your place, but I'll meet you after."

Thoros nodded in agreement. "Yep."

Margaery turned to Sansa. "What about you, love?"

Shaking her head, Sansa said "No, no not tonight. I don't think I could show my face there again so soon."

Margaery nodded. "Sandor?" She asked, gesturing to Sansa with her eyes.

Sandor cleared his throat and spoke to Sansa. "I could take you home. Well, not take...I've been drinking. But I'll see that you make it home ok."

Oblivious to what was happening, Tormund started to protest. "Oh co-" He was cut off from a pinch from Margaery. With raised eyebrows, she gave him a look.

The group paid their tickets and headed for the door. Outside, they went their separate ways. Tormund and Margaery took an Uber to The Tipsy Goat. Thoros and Beric drove the van with the music equipment back to Tormund's townhouse. Sansa found herself seated in the back of an Uber car next to the man who had managed to keep the butterflies fluttering in her stomach all night.


	5. Chapter Five

**Thanks again for the reviews! Sansa and Sandor get to know each other a little better here... I was going to wait a few more days to post this, but I just couldn’t stand it anymore! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

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"Where to, miss?" Asked the driver once they were settled in the back. Being in such close proximity to Sandor spurred Sansa's heart rate faster. He was close enough for her to reach out and touch his face. Close enough to lean over and taste his lips, which she had been dying to do all night. She wondered how her lips would feel rubbing on and caressing her own. The very thought of kissing him made her squirm against the leather seat of the car, trying to subdue the sudden intense feeling she felt between her legs.

"111 Fifth Street." Replied Sansa. Turning to Sandor, she asked, "Where do you live?"

"I don't live but a few streets down from you, on Flour Avenue."

Sansa smiled. "Ah the Street of Flour." She remarked, using the road's ancient name. "Are you a connoisseur of baked goods?"

"I have been known to have a bit of a sweet tooth from time to time..." Sandor growled in her ear. _Oh his voice..._ Sansa thought desperately to herself. She would have no problem being forced to sit and listen to him narrate the dictionary. His hand lightly brushed her knee as he spoke. Sansa's mind raced wildly with possible scenarios that could unfold as the evening progressed. As the car came to a stop in front of Sansa's apartment building, she slid out, followed by Sandor. Her heart sank a bit as she heard him tell the driver to wait a minute. An awkward minute passed as they stood on the sidewalk in front of the apartment.

Before Sansa could rein herself in, she heard herself speak. "Would you like to come up? To hang out for a bit?"

He had hoped for, but had not expected an invitation up to her apartment and Sandor found himself at a loss for words. He finally looked down and gestured to his clothes. "I'm dirty, Sansa. I'm all sweaty and smelly and my jeans have grease stains on them. You don't want a dirty old dog like me in your apartment...which I'm sure is spotless."

Sansa didn't even try to hide her expressions as her face fell. "Oh, ok then."

Scrambling to make a comeback, Sandor thought for a second. "But like I said, I don't live but a few blocks from here. I could go home, shower and change and then come back." He scratched his beard and looked at Sansa. "If you want..." He added hopefully.

Sansa brightened. "Sure. Yea that would be great." Another awkward pause. "Well I guess I'll see you in a bit, then."

"I'll text you when I get here. How do I go about getting in there?" He asked, motioning to the front door.

Sansa turned and gestured for Sandor to follow her. She approached the doorman. "Richard, this is Sandor Clegane. He will be coming back shortly to visit. Would you please see him in?"

The aging doorman tipped his hat at Sandor. "Yes, Ms. Stark. How do you do, sir?" He offered his hand out.

Wanting to make a better impression on Sansa than he feared he had already made, he refrained from barking at him about being called _sir_. "Sandor's fine." He nodded he head at the man and shook his hand.

Richard tipped his hat at Sandor again. "Of course."

"Ok well I'll be back." In the same fashion as he did earlier in the night, Sandor lightly pinched her chin. _"Don't go anywhere..."_ He whispered in her ear and turned to get back in the car.

Sansa stood there, waiting for the shivers from his words to subside. She almost didn't hear Richard speaking to her.

"New friend, Ms. Stark?"

Snapping out of her daze, she nodded her head. "Yes, Richard. He is a friend. Hopefully we will become good friends." She smiled at the man.

Looking a bit unconvinced, Richard nodded. "Yes, Ms. Stark. Have a good evening."

Once in her apartment, Sansa frantically looked around. Between herself and her maid who made visits every other week, her apartment usually stayed very neat and clean. However, Sansa was nervous about her company. It had been months since Sansa had a male visitor in her apartment. In fact, she couldn't remember any man ever being in her apartment besides her father. Maybe the maintenance man. And Pod, who had come over last winter to help her and Margaery plan for the annual Christmas Pageant. Racing from room to room, Sansa threw away empty Diet Coke cans, threw clothes that needed laundering into the hamper, folded the blanket on the couch and made her bed. She lit five candles in the living room, but then frowned and blew them out, only to light them again seconds later. Once she was satisfied her apartment was in order, she sniffed her hair. It smelled like a bar. She wrinkled her nose, stripped her clothes from her body and jumped in the shower. In record time, Sansa had her hair washed and blown dry. She dabbed a bit of concealer under her eyes and blended over it with a bit of foundation. She lightly brushed some blush on her cheeks and smeared chapstick ok her lips. What to wear... she thought as she walked to her bureau. Murmuring to herself, she pawed through her drawer that held her sleeping clothes. "Let's see...lacy, satin, ...whatever the hell this shit is..." she held up something with feathers on it that couldn't possibly cover anything meaningful on a body. Surely that was something from Margaery that had gotten mixed in with her things when she moved into her new apartment. After her split with Ramsay, Sansa had stayed with Margaery until the unit above her came available. Four months ago, Sansa had moved into the apartment right above Margaery.

Sansa pulled on a sports bra and settled on a pair of striped linen sleep shorts and a t-shirt. A text alert on her phone made her heart race.

_"I'm here, what's your apartment number?"_

With shaking fingers, Sansa replied. _"15A."_

Controlling her heart rate and breathing was difficult for Sansa as she waited. Close to twenty times, she peered through the peephole on her door. Finally, Sandor appeared. He raised his hand to knock, but paused. He turned and walked to the wall across the hall from her door and raked his fingers through his hair. He took out his phone and unlocked it and began to type something. _What is he doing?_ Sansa thought anxiously to herself. Sandor scowled and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He turned back to the door and knocked. Sansa jumped back. She had to make it seem like she hadn't already been standing at the door. After counting to fifteen, she opened the door. Sandor had changed into loose fitting grey sweatpants and another plain white t-shirt. His hair was still a little damp from his shower.

"Hello."

Blushing furiously, Sansa stammered to find her voice. "H-hey." She stood back and held out her arm for him to come in.

With am amused smile on his face, Sandor stepped around her and into the foyer. He took in his surroundings. To his left, he saw the kitchen. The cabinets were painted a light cream color that had been stained to look antiqued. The living room was to the right. A large grey sectional took up most of the space. The end tables and coffee table were white and had also been antiqued. Pops of color from plants and wall hangings accentuated the rooms, but most of the color scheme was neutral. It felt warm and cozy. "Nice place." Sandor commented.

"Thank you." Sansa fiddled with the hem of her shorts, trying to think of something else to say. "Would you like a tour?"

"Well, yea..." Sandor rasped in his low, sexy voice.

Walking on jelly legs that Sansa feared would fail her at any minute, she led Sandor to the kitchen. "Here's the kitchen."

Sansa caught a whiff of his irresistible aroma as he brushed past her. He smelled woodsy and earthy. A faint hint of leather also found her nose. Immediately he went to the refrigerator to look at the pictures that hung there. Someone who he assumed was a student of hers had written 'I love you Ms. Sansa. Love, Molly' in purple crayon. Sansa was drawn below with long red hair and a big smile. Holding her hand in the picture was a girl with black curls for hair and a wide smile as well. A picture of her and Margaery in elaborate masquerade masks caught Sandor's eye as well. Sansa's hair was piled in curls on top of her head. A tastefully low cut blue satin dress showed just enough cleavage to get his blood pumping. He inquired about a picture with a lot of people in it sitting around a table.

"Is this your family?"

Smiling, Sansa gazed at the picture. "Yes." She replied. The picture had been taken a few years ago, at the Spring Children's Gala, not long before her and Ramsay had started seeing each other.

"Gods, is this your _whole_ family?"

"Yes, my parents, Eddard and Catelyn. And those are my older brothers Robb and Jon. Jon's really a half brother. He was born right before he and my mother started dating. Robb is a surgeon at Mother's Mercy and Jon is in the army." Sansa continued to point to and name her siblings. "Then there's Bran and Rickon, they're younger than me. And that's Arya, my younger sister. She is a senior at UKL, majoring in medieval studies. She is obsessed with that time period. The weapons they used back then in particular. she's a fanatic about medieval warfare. I've always told her she's be better suited as a knight in armor than a young lady at a university." Sansa paused, giggling and thought fondly of her sister. "Anyway, her goal is to be the curator at the museum in the Red Keep. We haven't always gotten along, but she's my only sister and I love her." Hoping she hadn't bored Sandor with her family monologue. She turned to Sandor. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

The topic of family was pretty heavy for Sandor, and he wasn't quite sure if he was ready to reveal his past to Sansa just yet. "I had a brother." _Had?_ Sansa wondered. "He died."

"Oh Sandor, I'm so sorry about your brother."

"Don't be sorry." Sandor said roughly as he turned and started across the foyer to the living room. He stopped and turned back to Sansa. "I'm not."

Wondering about his dead brother, but not wanting to pry, Sansa just said nothing and followed him into the next room. "Well, this is the living room."

Grunting, Sandor nodded. "I never would have guessed." He teased. "Great view." Sandor commented as he slid the glass door open to the balcony.

"Yes, with a great price, too." Sansa replied as she followed him outside. It was a cool night and the wind lightly blew Sansa's hair in Sandor's direction. _Lemons_ , he thought, inhaling deeply. His hands curled tighter around the railing as the sweet smell of her kept wafting to his nose. He stood there, trying to think of an excuse to touch her, with no luck. Sighing, he turned to follow Sansa back into her apartment.

"Here's the bedroom..." Sansa held her hands out proudly at her bedroom. It was her favorite place in her apartment. Her bed was big and plush, covered with throw pillows.

"Now this is a bed." Sandor said as he pushed down on the mattress. "Oh yea...nice and big." _I wonder if she sleeps naked,_ he thought as he stroked the soft, white down comforter.

In the corner stood a white bookshelf packed with Harlequin romance novels, and, to Sandor's surprise, horror novels. He picked up _IT._

"Are you a Stephen King fan?" He asked, holding the book up. Sansa smiled and nodded. "I never would have guessed that you would be into horror. Do you like scary movies, too?"

"When I'm not alone, yes." Sansa smirked.

"Well that makes two of us." He replied with a wink. Through the doorway, the bathroom caught Sandor's eye. "Holy shit, is that a bathtub?!" He exclaimed, his long strides covering distance the to the bathroom. Sansa had a giant jacuzzi tub in the corner, next to the stand up shower. "Damn...you could fit four people in there." He cocked a half grin at Sansa. "But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Sansa shrugged. "You never know." Her answer made Sandor chuckle. "It is nice to relax in at the end of a long, stressful day. Light some candles, drip some lavender oil in the water...just lie back and let the bubbles surround you."

"Oh, I bet that is a sight to behold." The thought of Sansa lounging in a tub, her full, naked breasts rising and falling beneath the soapy water made Sandor weak in the knees. Feeling his manhood hardening against his boxer briefs, he changed the topic quickly. "Of course, you have a closet bigger than most bedrooms." He remarked as he entered through the sliding double doors. Her closet was indeed large. Two rows of clothes hung neatly color coordinated on either side of the room. Further back was a wall of shoes and a mirror that stretched floor to ceiling. Opposite of the mirror was smaller drawers that held jewelry and other accessories.

"I do have a lot of clothes." Sansa admitted, smiling. "But every June, I go through my closet and pick out items to donate to charity."

Sandor grunted. "Why June?"

"By that time in the year, school is over, I have my classroom packed away for the summer, and things slow down for me a bit." Sansa flipped off the lights in the closet and bathroom as she walked back into the living room. "However, this summer I will be taking some classes for my master's degree, so I won't be as free as usual." She sat down on the couch and hugged her knees to her chest.

"Oh so you're going _all the way_ in school, huh?" Sandor asked, sitting down a few feet away from her. "What are you getting your master's degree in?"

"Early childhood reading." Sansa replied.

"So like, you learn how to teach kids how to read better or something?"

Amused with his response, Sansa laughed. "Yea, that's it in layman's terms."

Hoping he wouldn't offend her, Sandor stretched his legs out and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "So what are you teaching your kids now in school?"

"Well next week's reading skill is cause and effect. In phonics, we are learning digraphs ow and ou. Our math skill is double digit addition. New skills ofor a first grader to master, but there is just _nothing_ in the world that compares to that moment when you're working with a child and all of a sudden, things just click." A smile stretched across her lips at the thought.

Seeing her enthusiasm and pride in her job was something that Sandor admired. "I bet you could teach me a thing or two." He said with a wink.

"Well I don't know, how does that old saying go? _You can't teach an old dog new tricks?_ " Sansa held her breath, realizing what she had just said. She let it out when Sandor's body shook with laughter.

"Hey now, I'm not _that_ old!"

Sansa clapped her hands together. "Awe I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way! I just meant because your nickname is Hound. How old are you anyway?"

"I am 32."

"32." She echoed. "Well that's not too old...I'm not far behind you at 27." Making a face at her age, Sansa reached for the blanket to wrap around her legs. "How far did you go in school?"

Sandor leaned back on the soft cushions. "I graduated high school, but that was it. I went to diesel mechanic school though. So I guess that counts as _higher education_."

Nodding, Sansa said, "Yes it does. What about your parents?"

Sandor visibly tensed at the question. He figured he would tell her only what she needed to know until he couldn't avoid the topic any longer. "My mother died when I was young. Maybe 3 or 4. My father died when I was 11."

Remembering what he had said about not being sorry about his brother dying, Sansa didn't know how to respond. "Where did you go after that?"

"Well, my brother decided to go live with my uncle in Lannisport. I wanted nothing to do with my brother, so I didn't move with him. Beric's parents are my godparents, so they offered to take me in, so I wouldn't have to go into foster care. I was left with a pretty stout inheritance, so they didn't have to worry about money. Of course, they wouldn't accept any that I offered, being the good people that they are. I've been working since I was 14, so I have been able to save most of it, minus what I used to put myself through mechanic school and what I used to buy my apartment."

Sadness tugged at Sansa's heart for her new friend. _Something horrible must have happened between him and his brother,_ she thought. Deciding not to dwell on the topic of family any longer, Sansa reached for the remote. "What kind of stuff do you like to watch on tv?"

In response, Sandor reached over and snatched the remote from her hands. "Whatever _I_ want to..."

"Hey!" Sansa protested, grabbing for the remote. Sandor held her by her shoulder at arm's length, laughing at her feeble attempts to regain control of the television.

Sandor flipped through her DVR. Several historical documentaries rolled by, including one he had recorded himself on The War of the Five Kings. There were several movies saved as well.

" _Beauty and the Beast!_ " Cried Sansa as it passed by.

"No! Not no, but hell no!" Sandor groaned loudly.

Poking out her bottom lip in protest, Sansa said, "Oh please, I recorded it weeks ago and haven't gotten to watch this live action version yet."

"Absolutely not..."

"I have cookies..." Tempted Sansa.

 _I'd rather have something else besides cookies..._ Sandor thought to himself as he eyed her long legs which had come out from under the blanket in the scuffle for the remote.

Narrowing his eyes, Sandor asked, "What kind?"

"Different kinds. You'll just have to see."

After standing up, Sandor shoved the remote into the pocket of his sweatpants. He patted his pocket and stuck his finger in Sansa's face as he spoke. "You'll get this back only if you have my favorite kind." He said in a gruff voice. He held his hand out. "Lead the way."

Sansa made her way into the kitchen and opened the pantry door. She took out all the packs of cookies she could find and laid them on the counter for him to peruse through. Glaring at the cookies, Sandor grabbed a pack of Keebler Fudge Elfwich cookies. " _You suck_." He said. "I'm going to need some milk."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Sansa smiled, feeling very satisfied with herself. "Looks like _I'm_ going to need that remote."

"Milk first." Sandor barked, feigning displeasure at her.

Smiling triumphantly, Sansa crossed the kitchen and retrieved a glass from the cupboard. She filled it with milk and held it out for him, only to snatch it back when he reached for it. "Remote." She demanded, holding out her hand.

Sandor rolled his eyes and fetched the remote out of his pocket. He thrust it into her hand and retreated into the living room with his milk and cookies.

Sansa had to stifle a giggle as she followed him. "I had you pegged as an Oreo man."

"Nope, these are my all time favorite."

Reaching for a cookie, Sansa replied, "Mine too." She flipped through the list back to _Beauty and the Beast_ and pressed play.

"I cannot believe I fell for watching this. All I wanted was some cookies." Sandor grumbled.

"And you have your cookies." Sansa replied, patting his knee.

Taking advantage of the playful moment, Sandor reached over and grabbed Sansa around the waist. "And now I have you..." He rasped low in her ear as he pulled her close next to him on the ottoman portion of the couch. His voice was like stone rubbing against stone. So manly and deep. Sansa squealed softly in his strong grip. The soft hair on his thick arms rubbed against her smooth skin and produced goosebumps. The sudden contact of skin made her heart pound so loud against her chest, she was sure Sandor could hear it. She leaned her head on his chest. When she did, she heard his own heart pounding. _Is he as nervous as I am? Surely not..._ she thought to herself as she laid against him, inhaling his masculine scent. It was enough to make her feel like she had drunk one too many martinis. Still in his arms, Sansa sat up to look him in the eyes. Tentatively, Sandor reached up and put his hand on her cheek. He ran his thumb along her cheekbone and looked back and forth between her blue eyes. Sandor had never seen eyes so blue. Far bluer than any water or sky he had ever seen. His calloused hand contrasted sharply with the silky smoothness of her face and it felt wonderful against her skin. The feeling in her chest could no longer be described as pounding. Sansa felt like her heart was vibrating with anticipation. She bit her lip and gazed up at Sandor through her eyelashes. A carnal moan came from Sandor's throat. His lips parted with desire. He could no longer handle seeing her bite at that lip. In one quick, smooth motion, he slid his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck and pulled her face close to his. Their lips met. Sansa put her arms around him and clung frantically to his body as they kissed. Sandor's tongue brushed across her lips, which she opened in response. He tasted and explored her mouth, as her tongue met his. The kiss ignited such a fire inside Sansa she was sure she would melt. The feeling far surpassed any sexual explorations she had ever done in the past. Even though she was far from being a virgin, this kiss alone was awakening more sexual desire in her body than she had ever experienced before. Sandor ran his fingers through her silky red hair. He reached down to feel her slim waist between his massive hands. He pulled her on top of him. His cock was beginning to swell with desire. Their breath came in short pants as their hands explored one another. Sansa could feel his hardness on her hip. Her eyes flew open. Not because of feeling his cock, she had actually wanted to feel it...but she felt it on the middle of her thigh as well. _Gods, is he really that BIG?_ The thought made her deepen the kiss. She grabbed the back of his head and arched her back to meet his body. Sandor slid his hands up the front of her t-shirt to her big, perky breasts. A low moan escaped Sansa's mouth as he squeezed gently to feel their fullness. They were so involved that neither one heard the key in the front door.

"Yoo-hoo, Sansa!" Margaery called into the foyer. "Darling, I left my phone charger here last night!"

Frantically, Sansa scrambled off of Sandor's body. She smoothed her hair and tossed the blanket on Sandor's lap to hide his now full erection. She ran top greet Margaery in the foyer. Margaery eyed Sansa suspiciously. Sansa's face was flushed red and her breathing was shallow and labored.

A smirk spread across Margaery's lips. She peeked around Sansa's shoulder into the living room. Sandor waved at her. Giggling, she waved back. "Oh my...my my my." Margaery said playfully. Sansa swatted at her arm. "Been _busy_ , have you?"

"Margery...it's past midnight..." Sansa pulled Margaery across the living room into her bedroom. She closed the door behind them. Lightheartedly, Margaery laughed as she retrieved her charger from behind the night stand. "Can't stay long, love. Tormund is downstairs."

" _You_ can't stay long either." Sansa whispered as she raised her eyebrows at her friend.

Margaery hugged Sansa. "Have fun." She told her. "Love you, darling girl."

Sansa returned the hug. "Love you too."

The two girls walked back into the living room. "Goodnight Sandor." Margaery sang playfully as she reached the door.

"Night." Sandor grunted from the couch.

Sansa returned to the couch and flopped down. "Sorry about that. Margaery and I usually come and go in each other's apartments without a second thought. I've never had a male visitor like you in my apartment."

Intrigued by her statement, Sandor asked, "Like me, how?"

Sansa tugged the blanket back over her legs. "Oh, you know...one that I'm... _interested_ in." Bashfully, she glanced his way. He was looking at her with a strange look.

"You're... _interested_ , huh?"

Becoming breathless again, Sansa gazed at Sandor. "I believe I am..." She whispered, her chest heaving up and down.

"Well..." Sandor began, reaching for her hand. Sansa held her breath as she waited for him to continue. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in you." His rough fingers grazed her palm. " _Very_ interested." His eyes found hers again. Pulled by an invisible force, Sansa and Sandor reached for each other once more. Sandor pushed her down on the cushions and leaned over her. Supporting himself by his elbows, he sank his body into hers. Their lips met again. Sansa found the exhilarating sensation no less intense than the first time. A throbbing ache made itself apparent between her legs as Sandor sucked her bottom lip, his hands roaming her body, struggling to settle on a spot that he liked best. Her whole body was so delicate and smooth to the touch, he never wanted to pull his hands away, never wanted to stop exploring.

"Sandor..." Sansa moaned.

Realizing she wasn't just moaning his name out of pleasure, Sandor came to his senses momentarily. "Hmm?"

"Sandor, maybe we should..." Sansa struggled to find her words. She did not want him to stop, but the new, sudden intimacies, paired with her less than rosy past with men was overwhelming for her. "We should take things slow." Reluctantly, Sandor pulled away from her. "I mean, if you want something more than just a fling with me...maybe we should take things slow." Her body tensed as she waited for his response.

Sandor sat up all the way and leaned back on the cushions. He rubbed his forehead and sighed deeply. His own past with women was not exactly happy, and the thought of a new relationship was tedious and a bit scary for him as well. But his feelings for Sansa were genuine, and as much as he would like to tear her clothes off and lay claim to her body right there on her couch, he knew he had to be careful with his actions. And words. "I-" He forcefully blew a breath out of his chest. "Sansa, I...like you. Admitting something like that is very hard for me. I'm not good at these sort of feelings. Not good at this kind of thing at all." He gestured his hand between the two of them. "But..." He paused again to think carefully about what he was trying to say. Sansa's heart pounded. "But I think I would like the outcome between you and I if we were to take things slow." His face saddened, sending creases over his brow and cheeks. "I've had shit luck with love in the past. Family, girlfriends, lovers...everything. All of it has ended with heartache and hard feelings. "Nothing would please me more than to get things right for once in my fucked up life."

Sansa reached for him once more, but this time to offer a gentle embrace. She wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her face against his neck. His scratchy stubble tickled her cheeks. Sandor returned her hug and buried his own face in her hair. He breathed in her heavenly scent. Completely satisfied to just cuddle for once in his life, Sandor turned his attention back to the movie. "Now let's watch the rest of this bloody movie you wanted to see so badly." Sansa giggled and turned her face towards the screen. It wasn't long before she fell asleep in his arms.

Sandor stayed awake for the whole movie. He glanced at his phone. It was past two. Sansa's deep, even breaths told him she was fast asleep. Slowly, he eased out from under her, trying his best not to wake her. She rolled onto her back as her body made contact with the couch. Carefully, Sandor slid his arms under her body and lifted her from the cushions. Cradling her body against his, he carried her into her bedroom. He laid her on the bed and pulled the covers down, then back up over her body and tucked her in tightly. She clutched her pillow and then lay still. Sandor watched her sleep for a minute, softly stroking her hair. _So beautiful,_ he thought. In an final act of intimacy that actually surprised himself a bit, he leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead. As he left the bedroom, he caught his reflection in a mirror that was on her wall. He studied his scared face. Years of anger and resentment had kept his face twisted into an almost permanent scowl. But he saw his features soften as his thoughts drifted back to the sleeping beauty in her bed. _Beauty and the Beast, indeed..._


	6. Chapter Six

The buzzing of a vibrating phone against a hard surface was what woke Sandor the next morning. He squinted and fumbled around on the table in front of him to find the source of the noise. Upon opening his eyes, he realized he was not in his own apartment. The bright light of morning was intensified by the light colored interior and open curtains of Sansa's living room. Realizing the phone on the coffee table was making the noise, Sandor reached for it. The screen on Sansa's phone showed that her mom was calling. The ringing stopped and Sandor pulled the blanket back up to his chin. Two minutes later, just as Sandor had drifted back off to sleep, the phone rang once more. Grumbling and rolling his eyes, Sandor reached for the phone. _'Mom'_ was calling again. He decided he should take the phone to Sansa. He crept to the bedroom door and cracked it open. Tentatively, he entered the room. Sansa was still asleep on her side, clutching her pillow tightly. Her red hair was spread out behind her in messy waves. He approached her bed and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Sansa..." He shook her gently. Sansa's heavy breathing continued. _"Sansa."_ Sandor said a little louder and shook a bit harder.

"Hmm?"

"Your mother has been calling you."

Once she opened her eyes, Sandor's face came into focus. He smiled down at her. Deciding she liked the image of him in the morning, she smiled and whispered, "You're still here."

"Of course."

Sitting up and reaching for the phone, Sansa asked, "Where did you sleep?"

"On the couch." Replied Sandor. "It's pretty comfortable."

"I'd better call her back to see what she wants." Sansa mumbled, throwing the covers back.

The sight of her long, shapely legs made Sandor's breath catch in his throat. "Got any coffee?" He rasped.

"No, I'm afraid not. I haven't been to the store in a while. But you're welcome to whatever is in the kitchen."

Coffee was what Sandor craved in the morning. Black coffee. After folding the blanket as neatly as he could, he wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Milk, Diet Coke and wine were his only options. He settled on Diet Coke. He could hear Sansa speaking quietly in her bedroom as he sat down on the couch. He turned the tv back on and flipped through the channels. A few minutes later, Sansa emerged from her bedroom and joined him on the couch. "Everything ok?" Sandor asked.

Sansa nodded and covered a yawn with her hand. "Yes, mother just wanted to know if I had picked out a dress for the Children's Benefit Gala yet."

"What the hell is that?"

"It's an event that my family sponsors to help children who are in need. It's actually very fun, there's a red carpet, music, dancing, wonderful food, a silent auction...that sort of thing. It's attended by celebrities and philanthropists from all over Westeros." A smile tugged at the corner of Sansa's lips as she pictured herself strolling into the gala on Sandor's arm. Sandor in a tuxedo, herself in a stunning evening gown. The sudden thought of judgmental strangers who did not know Sandor, staring at and wondering about his scarred face jolted Sansa back to reality.

"So have you?" Inquired Sandor.

"Have I what?"

Sandor chuckled. "Picked out a dress for this _gala?"_ Playfully, Sandor emphasized the last word in a girly voice, making Sansa giggle.

"Actually I have my eye on a dress at Neiman Marcus." She scrolled through her phone to find the screenshot of the dress she had sent to Margaery just last week. The Tyrells were big philanthropists as well, and also attended and helped sponsor the event each spring. Sansa found the picture and handed her phone to Sandor.

A low whistle escaped his lips. The long charmeuse gown was emerald green and had a plunging neckline. Not so low that it would be considered trashy, but low enough to show all the right things in all the right places. "Damn. I'd like to see you in a dress like that." He handed the phone back to Sansa and leaned into her as he did. "I'd like to take it off of you too..."

A shudder radiated down Sansa's spine as he spoke. She exhaled sharply and looked at him, smiling. "Well stick around and maybe you'll get to." She raised herself up off the couch and headed to the kitchen.

Sandor quickly followed, intrigued by her reply. "Maybe I'll get to what?"

Sansa cracked open a can of Diet Coke and took a sip. "See me in that dress." Her wink told Sandor she might just mean the other act too. "What do you have planned for today?"

"Nothing, really. I've got to go home and let my dog out here in a little bit. He's probably pissed at me I didn't leave the dog door open for him last night." Sandor finished his drink and crunched the can between his fingers. "You can come with me...if you want."

_I'll get to see his apartment... Sansa mussed to herself. And his dog. I wonder what kind of dog he has._ She knew that homes, almost more than anything else, told a great deal about the person who lives there. And she wanted to know all that she could about Sandor. She found herself wanting to spend more of the day with him though, and thought quickly. "Ok...but can we get some breakfast, too?"

Grunting, Sandor answered, "It's 8:15 in the morning...of course we can get breakfast."

Sansa disappeared into her bedroom to brush her teeth and change clothes. After running a brush and a straightener over her hair, she dabbed a bit of makeup on her face to freshen it a little and dressed herself in leggings and a light sweater. The days had been getting warmer, but Sansa was usually chilly in the mornings. They descended on the elevator in an awkward silence. The only thing running through Sansa's mind on the ride down was the scene from _50 Shades of Grey_ where Christian presses Ana up against the elevator wall and kisses her passionately. The only thing Sandor could picture in his mind was how sexy Sansa would look in the green dress she had shown him. They reached the ground floor and made their way through the lobby. Sandor was acutely aware of the stares they were receiving as he walked next to her.

"Good morning, Sansa." An aged woman said cautiously to Sansa as she passed. Sansa stopped to speak to the woman.

"Hello, Mrs. Marsh. How are you this morning?"

Her mouth spoke to Sansa, but her wide eyes were locked nervously on Sandor. "Oh I'm fine, dear. Old, but just fine." Mrs. Marsh's face tensed as she eyed the big man next to Sansa. "You two going out for some breakfast?"

Nodding, Sansa realized the woman was fishing for an introduction. "Oh, Mrs. Marsh, this is Sandor."

Sandor nodded his head at the woman. He didn't hold a hand out, fearing that if he tried to touch the old woman, she might fall over dead from freight. "Hello."

Mrs. Marsh gave Sandor an uneasy smile. Then she leaned towards Sansa and whispered. "Isn't it a little early for a _male visitor_ , dear?" She must have intended for Sandor to hear her whisper, because he heard her plain as day. His jaw clenched.

Blushing from embarassment, Sansa scrambled for some words to explain the situation, but failed miserably. "Ok well, I hope you have a good day, Mrs. Marsh!" She gave the woman a quick smile, and sped towards the door. Sandor struggled to keep up.

"That was smooth." He commented as he reached her side again. "Nice neighbor you've got..."

"I am so sorry about her, Sandor. She means well...she's just from...a different era."

Being no stranger to shocked and scared looks from people of all ages, Sandor knew exactly what had been bothering Mrs. Marsh. "Guess your neighbor isn't used to seeing an ugly, scary brute in her shiny building." A rough laugh escaped his lips.

Sansa stopped sharply and turned towards him. "No!" Realizing her answer was too shrill, she calmed her voice. "...no, it's just because I...h-have never had any...men over. That's all." She failed to convince herself, let alone Sandor, that was the reason for the stares. But to his credit, he pushed the issue no further for the moment. "Let's just enjoy the morning." She offered her hand out to him.

Public displays of affection had never really been Sandor's thing. He hadn't held hands with a woman since his ex. Even then, he fought the gesture. However, he couldn't bear to leave Sansa's hand hanging there, empty. He laced his fingers though hers and led her down the street to his apartment. It took about ten minutes to get to Sandor's place. They walked slow, enjoying the sunshine and each other's company. Sansa laughed and poked fun at Sandor's gruff, grumpy exterior, and surprisingly, Sandor found that he did not mind. He was slowly starting to realize this woman could very well have him wrapped around her finger in a very short period of time. "Well, here we are." Sandor said as he came to a stop in front of a door that Sansa would never have guessed led to apartments. Sandor unlocked the door and stepped inside after Sansa. There was no fancy lobby, like the one where Sansa lived. Just a staircase that led to higher units and a row of mailboxes. "This is me." He grunted, motioning towards the only door on the ground floor. Not knowing what to expect, Sansa stepped inside.

The small, one bedroom apartment was actually very cozy. Exposed brick and hardwood floors gave it a masculine, old world feel. Edison light bulbs encased with wire hung in the kitchen over the counter. A big leather couch and recliner sat facing one of the biggest televisions Sansa had ever seen. It had to be bigger than her car windshield. A game console sat underneath it on a shelf and wireless controllers were laid off to the side. Except for a beer bottle or two on the end table, and a few dishes in the sink, the apartment was fairly neat. Everything was updated and nice. "Wow, did you decorate this place yourself?"

Amused, Sandor laughed and held out his arms to the greatroom. "What, do you think I'm not capable of something like this?"

"No, I just...it's nice!" Sansa stammered.

Sandor shook his head and smiled at her. "My ex was- ...is, still...I guess, an interior decorator. Does that shit for a living."

Examining a picture of a classic model truck that hung above the couch, Sansa sighed. "And she left this, and you, and the...dog? Where's your dog?"

Sandor shrugged. "Probably in the bedroom asleep. Poor old guy's almost completely deaf." Sansa followed him into the bedroom. A large wooden headboard took up most of the space on the back wall. The king size bed was not made up, and last night's clothes were on the floor in a trail leading to the bathroom.

"Ah, a man _does_ live here." Teased Sansa as she kicked at his jeans.

Sandor emerged from the bathroom after brushing his teeth. "Well, I was in a bit of a hurry to get in the shower last night." He put his arms around Sansa's waist and squeezed gently. She lifted her hands to his shoulders.

"And why was that?"

Leaning down to touch his forehead to hers, Sandor growled low. "I was hurrying so you wouldn't have too much time to think and change your mind about me coming over." Lifting his chin, he placed a kiss on her forhead where his had been.

"Now why do you think I would have done something so foolish?" Whispered Sansa.

"Dunno. _I_ almost chickened out when I got to your door."

Inhaling, Sansa looked up at him. "Why?"

Sandor shrugged. "Like I told you last night, I have always had fucked up luck with women. Thought Audrina and I would get married. She had a damn ring picked out and everything." He scowled at the memory.

At the mention of her name, Sansa felt like a giant fist had clenched itself around her stomach. Saying her name had given more life to the mental image Sansa had in her mind of the woman. She made a face at the picture in her head.

Sighing heavily, Sandor continued. "She pretty much ripped my heart out. I stayed bitter about the whole situation for months." He dropped his hands from her waist, but lifted a finger to her face and let it slide down her cheek. "But I'm comin around I think." Sansa trembled slighty at his touch. She remembered the dog and looked around the room for him.

"Still no dog." She commented.

Sandor walked back into the bathroom. "He's probably hiding. Sometimes he likes to sleep in my laundry basket. Roots around under the clothes til he's comfy." He bent down and fumbled around in the clothes basket and produced a very sleepy looking black, long eared, dachshund. His graying mouth opened in an immense yawn. When he saw that Sandor had company, his tail flapped wildly against his shirt. "This is Pierre."

Giggling at his name, Sansa held her hands out to the little dog. "Awe, hello Pierre." Sandor placed him in her arms. Pierre frantically licked her chin and whined. "When you said you had a dog, this was not what I was expecting."

Sandor laughed. "I didn't name him. He actually belonged to Audrina long before her and I ever met. But when she packed up and left for Old Town, she said she didn't want him anymore."

Pierre squirmed in her arms. Scratching his chin, Sansa said, "Oh who wouldn't want this precious little guy?!" The thought of his ex abandoning Sandor as well as this dog made her disklike the unknown woman even more than she already did. Carefully, Sansa set Pierre down and watched him waddle to a door in the living room. Sandor followed and opened it, revealing a small outdoor space with a strip of grass. Once Pierre had relieved himself, Sandor and Sansa went back inside.

"So...breakfast?" Sandor asked.

"Lead the way."

Smirking at her, Sandor pocketed his keys and opened the door for Sansa. She turned and knelt to pet Pierre's long, chubby body. "Bye, Pierre. I'll see you later."

Sandor closed and locked the door. Trapping Sansa against his door with hands on either side of her, he pressed his body to hers. "Don't make a promise to the little guy you don't intend to keep."

Heart racing, Sansa grasped at the back of Sandor's shirt and lightly dug her nails into his back, producing goosebumps on his skin. "Oh I intend to keep that promise." She said, looking up at him. Unable to control herself, she wound her fingers into his hair and pulled his head towards hers. Sandor's lips met hers with a low groan. The second her lips made contact, a riveting sensation shot throughout his body. Sure he had kissed women before, but never in his life had he felt the electric tingle of an attraction this intense as his tongue caressed hers. Her kiss was steeped in passion and offered Sandor the promise of realness, gave him the promise of a primal desire that was awakening deep within her body. With every touch of her fingers, she promised Sandor that her body would eventually be all his. Sansa ran her fingers down Sandor's spine and pulled him closer until there was no space left between them and she could feel his pounding heart against her chest. Fearing that he would unburden Sansa of her clothes and take her right there in the hallway, Sandor slowed the kiss until his lips lingered, unmoving on hers.

Smiling as he pulled away, he growled into her ear, "We'd better stop before I decide to speed things up _quite_ a bit."

Breathlessly, Sansa pressed her lips together and nodded. If their kissing continued to be this intense, she didn't know how much longer she could hold out only kissing him before she offered herself to him to satisfy her heart and her body's urges. Sandor held her face in his hands and laid his lips on hers one last time before entering the bright morning again. Sansa slipped her hand into Sandor's once more as they made their way down The Street of Flour.

"Mother and I were just in here week before last." Sansa mentioned and came to a stop in front of a bakery called Hot Pie's Bake Shoppe. "To pick out the deserts for the gala. You wouldn't _believe_ the cupcake flavor we decided on. Vanilla cake with maple cream cheese frosting and _real pieces of bacon_ crumbled on top." She grinned and squeezed his hand. "Doesn't that sound divine?"

The thought of Sansa getting excited about such an elaborate use of bacon made Sandor laugh. "It sounds ridiculous. So ridiculous you might have to steal one for me."

In the window, there was a gold and red lettered flyer advertising the gala. Sandor squinted at the date on the poster.

"It's coming up soon, isn't it?"

Nodding and continuing on down the sidewalk, Sansa nodded. "Three weeks." Her friendship with Sandor was so new and sudden, she wasn't sure how to bring up the thought of him being her date. But for the second time that day, she allowed the idea excite her. Even though she liked him quite a bit more than she had originally thought she would, Sansa wasn't going to ignore the fact that Sandor was a different breed of man than she the kind she had experience with. Deciding to wait a while longer to bring up the topic again would be best, she thought.

Breaking the silence, Sandor asked, "Have you ever eaten at The Crispy Biscuit?"

"No, but Margaery and her ex used to have brunch there all the time. She said they have good bloody marys."

"Not good, _the best_." Corrected Sandor. "I bet you could have used one yesterday morning." He teased with a grin. They arrived at the restaurant and walked through the main seating area to sit at a table on the back patio. Sandor ordered a ham biscuit with two fried eggs and black coffee. Sansa decided on french toast and orange juice. As they ate, Sansa inquired about Midnight Envy.

"So is the band you're in just a hobby for fun, or do you think you will go any further with the music you guys play?"

Finished with his biscuit, Sandor leaned back and smiled. "Nah, we just do it for the hell of it. We just like to play, we don't ever plan on touring or anything. Tormund has a client whose band records some of the songs that he writes." He sipped coffee from the mug, thankful that he had finally gotten some this morning. "Nah, the band is just an on the side thing. I make fairy decent money at my job. The gigs we play is just a little extra cash here and there."

"How much did you guys make last night?" Sansa inquired.

"Five hundred dollars."

"Each?" Asked Sansa. After seeing Sandor nod his head yes, Sansa arched an eyebrow. "Wow, that's amazing. And being a mechanic is fairly lucrative as well?"

"Well, I'm definitely not rich. But I'm definitely not poor. I try to stay fairly conservative when it comes to spending, and I try to save most of what I earn." Ned Stark had always instilled in his children the importance of working hard and saving money. If their relationship got as far as she was hoping it would, she knew that Sandor's work eithic would be something that her father would approve of. Sandor paid for their breakfast and they left the restaurant. They returned to Sandor's apartment and spent the next few hours of the day relaxing, watching tv, and resting up for another work week. Sandor was finding it increasingly more difficult to keep his hands away from Sansa. The thought of him breaking contact with her inexplicably silky smooth skin was almost unbearable. Being with Sansa was addicting. And so easy, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Usually whenever Sandor meant to meet a woman, it was solely for the purpose of satisfying his own sexual urges. Once or twice since Audrina had left him, he had attempted to start a relationship with women who had lasted longer than one or two hookups. But he always found some excuse to drive her away. Sandor had blamed his past relationship, or had claimed the woman was being far too clingy, even when she wasn't. It was Beric who had called him out one day while they were discussing it at work.

_"Oh that's bullshit, Clegane. You're scared and you know it!"_ Beric had said.

At the time, Sandor had gotten mad at Beric. Furious, actually, and had stormed out of the shop...only to come back moments later to finish the work day. That conversation had been months ago. In retrospect, Beric had been right, although Sandor would never admit to it. He was scared. Scared of letting himself get lost in another woman, only to have it end horribly. A new thought crept into his mind as Sansa nestled into the crook of his arm. _What if she decides I'm not good enough for her? That I don't fit into her perfect world of red carpet galas and fancy parties?_ Silently, Sandor stewed on the thought. He knew he had two choices. He could end things now before they even got good and started, before more intense feelings developed on both ends. That could be accomplished by any number of ways, but especially by showing Sansa his horrible temper and forcing her away, like he had done to others before. His other option would be to give in and let her bewitch him even more than she already had with her otherworldly beauty and irresistible charm. That alternative could lead to many wonderful things for Sandor. Happiness, love, comfort...any number of things that Sandor craved deep down. The first choice though would keep his life simple...easy...uncomplicated. Just the way Sandor liked things. As soon as he thought he had made his mind up to somehow end things, Sansa reached up behind her to touch him. Her delicate hand found the scarred side of his face and she caressed it with tenderly. Her touch produced a level of comfort that he hadn't felt since his mother had been alive. Closing his eyes, he leaned his cheek into her hand. He covered her hand in his and pressed it closer, savoring the feeling. _Fuck it,_ he thought. _I've survived heartbreak in the past, if this ends in shit like the others, I'll survive it too_. The temptation of what was to come should he continue things with Sansa was far too appealing for him to quit before they even started. Sandor made a silent promise to Sansa right then and there; for her, he would try his absolute harsest to be good enough for her in ever way.

As Sansa stroked Sandor's face, she couldn't help but wonder what had made those scars. Sansa also couldn't help but noticing that she didn't really care. Of course she cared about knowing the story of how he got them, but what she didn't care about was the fact that they were there at all. Although she did not find his scars offensive, another thought plagued her mind. What would others think? People would of course stare, it was inevitable. _Would that be something Sandor would be comfortable with?_ Then there was the whole issue of 'could they even be right for each other?' He wasn't the type of man she usually dated. There was no denying the fact that she had never stepped outside her comfort zone when it came to men. But seeing that Ramsay had completely shattered her comfort zone, Sansa really didn't know what her _type_ was, anymore. Margaery had asked her an important question the other night that she hadn't really reflected on.

_"When has 'your type' ever brought you happiness?"_

It truly hadn't. The men Sansa had picked for herself had turned out vile, cruel, or corrupt. Or in the case of her latest relationship, abusive. Sansa forced all the thoughts out of her head except one. She was a grown woman who was capable of making her own choices. If she chose to be with Sandor, that was her business and no one else's. Her family, society, the damn guests at the gala...should Sandor want to be her date...would all have to get over it. At that moment, Sansa decided not to care what other people thought about her any longer.

As 4:00 rolled around, Sansa knew she had better be getting back to her apartment. Usually, she liked to go to bed early on Sundays. Being overly tired on a Monday with a bunch of six and seven year olds was not a scenario Sansa liked to be faced with. She also didn't want to overstay her welcome and spend too much time with him too soon. Stretching her arms out, she turned her body over to face Sandor. "I should probably go home."

"Why?"

A smile stretched across Sansa's lips. "So that you can miss me." She whispered.

Sandor pulled her body up flush with his. Their breath mingled between their faces as they gazed at each other. "Oh I will definitely do that." He rasped in her ear before pulling her in for a chaste, but sweet kiss. They held each other for a minute longer before they peeled themselves off the sofa. "I'll walk you home. Pierre could use a little exercise and fresh air as well." The little dog had been curled up, snoring on his bed all afternoon. Sandor knelt down to rouse him and clip a leash onto his collar. Pierre groaned and shook himself in protest, but followed Sandor out the door.

The sun was dipping low behind the buildings of downtown King's Landing as they walked back to Sansa's apartment. When they were less than a block away, Pierre began to whine and beg to be carried. Rolling his eyes, Sansor bent and scooped up the dog and tucked him under his arm. Richard was back on duty when they reached her building. He greeted them warmly as they approached.

Suddenly regretting her decision to return home so soon, Sansa turned to Sandor. But she knew she had to be a responsible adult and go get a good night's sleep. And truth be told...there was something she was dying to do that she couldn't do in his presence. "Thank you for everything Sandor. For breakfast, having me over...I really enjoyed spending the day with you."

Hearing her sweet voice say his name was enough to make him weak at the knees. He wrapped his arms around her slim body and let his cheek rest on the top of her head. "You're welcome, Little Bird."

"Little Bird?" Asked Sansa with a smirk.

"You're always chirping your _thank yous_ and _please let me_ and all that nonsense." Sandor chuckled.

Sansa scoffed. "I'm just trying to be polite!" She protested.

"I never said I didn't like it. It's cute." He pinched her chin in his fingers. "Talk to you later?"

Reaching up on her toes, she kissed his cheek. "Ok."

Sandor pulled her in closer for a kiss that lasted longer than he had ever kissed in public. His lips left her feeling light headed and giddy as she almost skipped through the lobby to the elevator. As soon as the elevator doors closed, Sansa whipped out her phone to text Margaery.

_'Are you home? And are you alone?'_

Less than a minute later, Margaery replied.

_'Yes and yes, love...what's up?'_

Sansa's fingers flew across the keyboard.

_'I'll be there in a minute...get your laptop ready, I need your help with something!'_

* * *

**_Hmm...what's Sansa up to??_ **

 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Admit, it y'all...most have us have done it before; looking up a significant other's ex! I know I have! This story is rated explicit...even though it hasn't gotten very 'explicit' yet...but trust me...it's coming in the next few chapters! There's also some descriptions of violence against women in this chapter, so be careful. Thank you so much for the reviews, I really appreciate it! Let me know if you're enjoying it! Happy reading xoxo**

* * *

 

Margaery flung open the door before Sansa could even knock. "His ex, Margaery..." Sansa exclaimed as she breezed past her friend into her apartment. "I _have_ to know what she looks like."

If there was one person who could find someone on Facebook, it was Margaery. "Come on, girl." Margaery lowered herself onto her sleek, leather couch and patted the seat next to her. "But before we do anything...I have to tell you something Tormund said..."

Sansa's heart began to race. Usually, Margaery was the world's worst at keeping good news to herself. She had to, figuratively, scream it from the rooftops. In a more literal sense, she usually called Sansa and screamed it over the phone. "The topic of you and Sandor was brought up today over lunch. By the way, we ordered from that new stir fry place on the corner, you must try it... _sooo_ delicious. I had-"

_"Margaery!"_

"Ok ok...sorry! Tormund told me that Saturday afternoon while they were all getting ready for their gig, Sandor couldn't stop talking about how beautiful you are, and how much he wanted to see you again..."

If Sansa's heart had been racing earlier, it was about to break the sound barrier now. _"And?"_

"He called Tormund on the way back over to your apartment last night. I was with him at that point, of course, but when they got off the phone, Tormund told me that he had _never_ heard Sandor talk about a woman the way that he had talked about you." Breathlessly, Sansa collapsed back onto Margaery's couch and stifled a squeal into her hands. Margaery continued, "Apparently, Sandor had told him that he just knew you were different, and he couldn't wait to get to know you better, but he was worried you wouldn't like him the way he wanted you too, and that he was going to fuck it all up, and blah blah blah..."

" _Margaery_ , this is no time for _blah blah blah_...I need details!" Sansa practically shouted.

Margaery threw he head back and laughed and clapped her hands. "Look, girl, the man is _crazy_ about you. Tormund said that he had known Sandor a long time, and that he is not ever one to gush about a woman. He said Sandor's also not the type to 'put himself out there' with a woman so soon, so that he must really like you." Margaery paused and clasped Sansa's hand. "Tormund also says that he hopes you are genuine, and careful with Sandor's heart. He said underneath that tough, asshole...Tormund's words, darling, not mine...exterior, there's a man with a kind heart."

Sansa smiled and buried her face back into her hands. "Sandor's wonderful, Margaery...I really do like him!" Sansa spilled the details about her time spent with him this weekend. She told her all about their steamy make out sessions, all the details she knew about his past relationship, his apartment, even Pierre. And his ex. "Ok, Margaery...her name is Audrina. I don't know her last name, though. Sandor doesn't have a Facebook, so I don't know where to start."

"Tormund's got one...let's start there." Not five minutes later, Margaery had found who they thought had to be _the_ Audrina. "Audrina Cross..." Margaery murmured, turning her laptop slightly for Sansa to get a better look.

"Gods, she's _gorgeous_." Sansa breathed.

Margaery shrugged. "Yea, in a rocker...metal chick kinda way, I guess..." Audrina had long, dark brunette hair that hung in thick, voluminous waves around her sun-kissed shoulders. She had big, almond shaped green eyes that were hedged with long, thick eyelashes. Plump, full lips separated in a smile to show of her sparkling white teeth. In most of her pictures, her makeup was done dark and her clothes were daring and edgy. Each of her ears had four silver piercings, and a diamond stud nose ring could be seen in some of her pictures. What unnerved Sansa was that she looked more like the type of girl Sandor would want to date. In the pictures that she was wearing a tank top in, Sansa could see that Audrina's upper arms were covered in elaborate, colorful tattoos. During their show at The Green Dragon, Sansa had caught a glimpse of a massive tattoo on Sandor's back. But since he had his front side turned towards the audience, she hadn't gotten a very good look at it. Sansa's breath caught in her lungs as her eye caught Sandor in one of her older profile pictures. It was taken from the side. Audrina's legs were wrapped around Sandor's waist and he stood, supporting her with his hands on her ass. Her arms were clasped tightly around his neck and her tongue was clearly visible between their lips as they kissed. Sansa kept clicking the next button, which produced picture after picture of her and Sandor. In some of the pictures, Sandor was smiling. A happy smile.

"Sansa..." Margaery intervened once Sansa had clicked herself all the way back to 2015. "Be careful...don't go and get yourself all pissed off over something you can't change."

Realizing Margaery was right, Sansa clicked the close button on the internet browser and snapped the laptop lid closed. "You're right." Sighing, she looked at Margaery. "Do you really think Sandor likes me? I am nothing like that woman. I'm the 'girl next door,' compared to her. What do we really have in common? A few things, but nothing big..."

Abruptly, Margaery sat up straighter and grabbed Sansa's shoulders. " _Sansa_." she began sharply, "If he wanted that, he would still be trying to get with _that_." She nodded her head at the laptop. "Didn't you ever stop to think that maybe you two have more in common than you think?"

"How so?"

"Both of you clearly never had much luck with the type of people you've usually gone for. That's why you're both willing to try something different. The two of you only met _Friday_ , girl...give it some time!"

Sansa fell back on the couch. " _A lot_ can happen in one weekend..."

Margaery lowered herself next to Sansa. "Yes it can." Margaery proceeded to tell Sansa of her weekend with Tormund. She listened as her friend enthused about her new red bearded friend. They had come very close to having sex last night, did everything but the act itself. He had spent the night with her and they, like Sandor and Sansa had enjoyed a lazy Sunday together. They chatted back and forth for the next half hour over their new male friends. Sansa remembered her mother's phone call from that morning.

"Oh, by the way, mother called this morning and asked about my dress for the gala. Have you bought yours yet?" Sansa asked.

Margaery shook her head. "No, I've still got that one on hold at Neiman Marcus. Did you decide to get the green charmeuse?"

Nodding, Sansa said, "Yes, I think that's the one I want to wear. Why don't we go get them sometime this week?" Margaery smiled and raised her eyebrows at the thought. If there was one thing Margaery liked more than men, it was shopping. Deciding to call it a night, Sansa rose from the couch and stretched. "Well I will see you tomorrow." She hugged her friend tight. "Goodnight."

Margaery stroked Sansa's hair as she hugged her. "Goodnight." After their embrace, she held Sansa at arm's length. "Don't you dare go and get yourself all worked up over that Audrina girl." She made a face as she spoke her name.

Sansa shook her head. But back in her apartment, Sansa stole one last look at the woman's profile. _Single_ , her relationship status read. Sighing, she closed the app on her phone and tossed it aside. When she got out of the shower, there was a text on her phone from Sandor. _"Miss me yet?"_

A smile lit up Sansa's face. _"It was you who were supposed to miss me..."_

_"Oh rest assured that is happening, Little Bird."_

The bubbles pulsing on the screen told Sansa Sandor was still typing. _"The band is practicing at the garage Tuesday night. Want to come watch? Maybe we can all go out to eat afterwards."_

The smile wouldn't leave Sansa's lips. _"Of course."_ She typed. His reply was almost instant.

_"Good. I'll be looking forward to it. Goodnight beautiful, sweet dreams."_

A warmth tingled through her body when she read his text. She quickly typed her response. _"Goodnight xoxo."_

That night, Sansa slept with the blanket from the couch draped across her pillow. Since Sandor had used it to cover himself with last night, it still smelled strongly of him. It's smell comforted Sansa, and she fell asleep with a smile stretched across her lips.

While they were working on their grad school class during their planning period the next day at school, Margaery received a bouquet of the reddest roses Sansa had ever seen. Sansa picked up the card that had been tucked between the twelve roses. _"I don't think much, and I don't think often, but lately when I think, I think of you. -Tormund."_ Sansa placed the card back in its holder and beamed at Margaery. "Well you certainly managed to capture his attention, haven't you?"

"He's very charming, to say the least." Margaery replied, closing the lid to her laptop. "He makes me very happy." She added in an animated, girlish voice, "He makes my heart skip a beat!"

Sansa laughed. "Yes, well that's called an arrhythmia...you should probably get that checked out." Sansa joked as she patted her friend's shoulder. "I'm just kidding...you deserve happiness. I'm glad that you've found it."

Turning to Sansa, Margaery replied, " _You_ deserve happiness as well. Speaking of your happiness, did Sandor invite you to come watch them practice tomorrow night?"

Blushing, Sansa straightened some papers on her desk. "Yes, he did. Are you coming too?"

Margaery rose from her chair and clutched the vase with her roses to her chest. Inhaling their fragrance, she replied, "Yes...yes I think I am." She winked at Sansa and returned to her classroom. Sansa checked her phone. It was 1:30 and she hadn't heard from Sandor yet. _I guess it wouldn't hurt for me to text him first._

It was close to 2:00 before Sandor realized he had received a text. Unlocking his phone, he saw it was from Sansa. He wiped his hands on grease rag and read the message. _"How are you today?"_

He had had better days in the shop. They were busy that day, and he had his hands full replacing a transmission on a Peterbilt truck that was half as old as he was. " _I've been better. I'm better now that I've heard from you. How's your day going?"_

A minute later, her response showed on his screen. "Sorry to hear your day isn't going well. Wish I were there to make things better ;)"

A chuckle escaped Sandor's throat as he read her text. _"And how would you do that?"_ He replied. She definitely could make it better. It's not that he hadn't thought about her, he had been thinking about her constantly all day. Thinking about her had made him absentminded when it came to his work, and that was not like him. He retrieved his vibrating phone from his pocket to read her text.

_"I would start by wrapping my arms around you, and pressing my body against yours..."_

That was enough to get his blood pumping. His fingers fumbled against the screen as he typed his reply. _"That would definitely help make me feel better. But what else would you do?"_ Sandor signaled to Beric that he was going to take his break. He went through the back door and sat on the bench in the alley behind the shop. Lighting a cigarette, he fished his phone out of his pocket. Sansa had text him again. Eagerly, he unlocked his phone and read.

_"I would do things to you that definitely wouldn't be considered 'slow'..."_

Exhaling smoke, Sandor stood and began to pace. His mind was racing, trying to figure out something to say. He had never been very good at 'sexting,' but he was going to have to try. _"I've been thinking about that all day...been very hard to concentrate on work when all I can think about is bending you over your desk with your skirt around your ankles."_ He hesitated before pressing send, hoping she wouldn't shy away from him being so forward. He hit send anyway. Having finished his cigarette, he lit another to smoke before returning to his work bay. Another text came through.

_"Too bad I'm not wearing a skirt. Otherwise we could have made your fantasy a reality..."_

Sandor let his head roll back as he grinned. _"Well you should wear a skirt tomorrow night."_ Reluctantly, Sandor pocketed his phone and returned to his bay. Beric noticed the smirk on his face as he picked up his tools.

"If I didn't know any better, Clegane, I'd say that you were... _happy_." Beric joked.

Shrugging, Sandor looked up at Beric. "What of it, Beric?"

"Couldn't have anything to do with a certain red headed vixen...?"

Jaws clenched, Sandor glanced back at Beric, who was smiling coyly at him. "That's the one..." he muttered before sliding under the Peterbilt on his creeper. He could hear Beric's laughter as he began to loosen bolts under the truck.

Faculty meetings were usually scheduled for Monday afternoons. This Monday was no different. Sansa let her mind wander as she listened to Tyrion Lannister drone on and on about end of the year testing procedures, IEP meetings, and contracts for next year. All she could fixate on was Sandor's text. _"All I can think about is bending you over your desk with your skirt around your ankles..."_ The notion hadn't left her mind all afternoon. As she had sat behind the very desk Sandor had been talking about, she had imagined him sweeping everything off the top of her desk, computer and all, thrusting her back. In her mind, she had lifted her hands above her head as Sandor ripped her buttoned blouse open to reveal her breasts straining against her lacy white bra. She was so engrossed in her fantasy, Sansa didn't realize Tyrion had changed the topic to the auction that would be at the Spring Benefit.

"Isn't that correct, Ms. Stark?"

Ros nudged Sansa with her elbow. Sansa jerked her head away from her hand that her chin had been resting on. "Hum- what?" Her response produced snickers from around the tables in the room.

With an amused smile on his face, Tryion repeated his question. "Items that are being donated for the auction may be dropped off at your mother's house or sent with you?"

Nodding, Sansa stood up to address her coworkers. "Yes, you may give your auction items to me, or deliver them to my mother's house. I will send an email out with her adress. Please have all items in by April 26th so they can be added to the website and brochure." Flustered, she let her body fall back into her chair and heaved a sigh.

Ros leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Distracted?"

Blushing, Sansa nodded. "A bit." She tilted her head closer and lowered her voice. "I met the most intriguing man this weekend..."

"The friend of Margaery's new man?" Ros shot a smile at Margaery. "She already told me." Ros winked at Sansa. "Are you going to ask him to be your date for the gala?"

Uncertainty plagued Sansa's face as she thought of an answer. "I'd like to...I'm just trying to figure out a way to bring it up. I don't think that type of event is his... _thing._ "

Ros gave her an inquisitive look. "But it's _your_ thing. And you are _his_ new thing." Looking satisfied with her answer, she sat back and took a sip of her drink. "I bet he'd say yes."

Once the meeting had been adjourned, Sansa returned to her classroom to work on an assignment for her class. With her head resting in her hands, she attempted to think of a topic for her paper. Tyrion's voice broke the silence in her room.

"Writer's block?"

Sansa looked up to see the short man enter her room with a newspaper folded under his arm. He pulled a chair up next to Sansa's desk. "Sansa, I couldn't help but notice you were...inattentive during today's meeting."

"Yes, Mr. Lannister...I'm so sorry. It won't happen again."

Shaking his head, Tyrion placed a hand on her arm. "No, I'm not worried about that." Concern was etched into his features. "Sansa..." He choked on the words he was trying to say. The newspaper trembled in his hands as he unfolded it. "I just didn't know if this was the reason for your distraction..." Tyrion pointed a stubby finger to an article at the bottom of the front page. Sansa turned her attention to the paper. Time seemed to stand still as the blood froze in her veins. Tyrion put his hand on her shoulder to steady her as her body swayed. "Sansa?" His voice seemed muffled and far away. "Sansa...say something."

For the third time, she read the headline, this time finally out loud. _"Bolton to be released on parole."_ Bile rose in her throat as the message sunk in. "Oh Gods..." She whispered.

"So you hadn't heard?"

Horror-stricken, Sansa shook her head. A hand rose to her mouth. Tears blurred her vision as she continued to read with a shaky voice. "Millionaire entrepreneur, Roose Bolton's son Ramsay Bolton will be released on parole next month, pending a court hearing. Bolton was incarcerated following a guilty plea of domestic violence..." Her voice trailed off. Snapping out of her daze, Sansa sat bolt upright. "I have to talk to my father." She grabbed her purse and reached for the paper. "May I have this?"

Nodding quickly, Tyrion said, "Yes, of course. Allow me to walk you to your car." He struggled to keep up with Sansa's long stride as they exited the school and made their way into the parking lot. "Are you going to your parent's house?" Tyrion asked as he helplessly watched Sansa struggle to find her keys within her purse.

"Yes, father will know what to do." Sansa finally snatched her keys free of the tangled mess of items in her purse. "Thank you, Tyrion." With a trembling hand, she reached for his and clasped it tight.

Tyrion nodded his head. "Please be careful, Sansa."

"Of course." Sansa fought back the tears as she climbed into her car and turned the key. Once she was out of the parking lot, she let them flow. She cried and screamed and beat her hands on the steering wheel. _This can't be happening..._ she thought. How soon her world came crashing down. Just hours earlier, she had hit such a high while texting Sandor. Now her stomach was in knots. It was a short drive to the country club where her parents lived, just south of King's Landing, across the Blackwater Rush. Luckily, there was not a lot of traffic on the bridge across the rush and Sansa reached her parent's house quickly. As soon as she put her car in park, she heard her phone ring. It was Sandor. With shaking hands, she wiped the tears from her face and answered. "Hu-hello?" She managed to stammer.

"Hey there. What are you doing?"

His deep voice smoothed her nerves, but only marginally. "Um...I uh, I'm at my p-parent's house. I just pulled up...Sandor, I'll...can I call you back?"

"Yea, sure. Is everything ok, Sansa?"

A fresh sob broke from her lips when she heard the concern in his voice. "Gods...no, Sandor. I- I mean, I'm physically ok, but...I'll have to explain later."

"But you're alright?"

"Yes...could I maybe stop by later? If you're not too busy?" Sansa had to bite her lip to keep it from trembling.

"Yea, of course. Text me when you're on your way."

"Ok, bye." Sansa quickly hung up and grabbed the newspaper before bolting into her parent's house. "Dad?" She called. _"DAD?!"_

Catelyn came around the corner from the kitchen. "Sansa? What in the world, is everything alright?"

"No!" Sansa exclaimed sharply, holding up the paper. "Does daddy know about this? Is he home?"

Catelyn's hand flew to her mouth as she read. "He's in his study." Both Stark women flew up the stairs to the office room. They burst through the door and saw that Ned was pacing angrily around, his phone pressed to his ear. Apparently he _had_ heard.

" _Dammit,_ Rodrik, I should have known about this _before_ it hit the papers!" Ned shouted angrily into the phone.

Rodrik Cassel was the Stark lawyer and close friend of Ned's. He was a shrewd fighter and was a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom. But apparently he had little to no sway when it came to Ramsay serving out his entire sentence.

Ned held up a finger to his wife and daughter and continued to speak to Rodrik. "Yes...yes, do that immediately. Fax it to me when it's done. Keep me updated. Yea, thanks." He put his phone down. "Sansa..."

Tears sprung from her eyes. " _How_ could this happen?!" She nearly screamed. "How is he getting out?!"

Ned embraced his daughter tightly. It had nearly killed him to see her, his oldest daughter fight for her life following her abuse. He was hurting all over again to see her upset over the news. "Bolton's lawyers have been pushing and pushing for his parole. It's finally been granted."

"Yes, Ned we see that. But what can we do to keep Sansa _safe?"_ Catelyn asked, frantically.

"I've got Rodrik drawing up a restraining order. He's not to come within 100 yards of you, your apartment, this house, or your school." Ned walked to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. "I will alert the school and the staff in your apartment."

Hugging her arms around her body, Sansa sank onto the leather chaise lounge in front of the fireplace. "It's not enough." She whispered. Catelyn lowered herself next to Sansa and wrapped her arms around her.

Ned approached the women and knelt to look his daughter in the face. "Sansa, we knew this day would come." He ran a hand across his tired face. "I was hoping it wouldn't come so soon..." His voice trailed off with that thought, but he continued with another. "Sansa, I won't let him hurt you."

Sansa cried into her mother's thick auburn hair. Her mother rocked her whispered gently, "You must be strong, love. It'll be alright." She pulled her daughter away from her and looked her in the eyes. They looked so much like her own it was like peering back in time at her own self. "You cannot let this set you back. You have come so far...you are doing so well in your graduate classes, things are going so well for you at school, you have done a wonderful job helping me with the benefit this year...don't let what he did to you haunt you forever."

Knowing she was right, Sansa looked at her mother. "I even just met someone..." She said absentmindedly. "He's quite wonderful." Sansa added quietly.

"Oh Sansa, that's great!" Catelyn smoothed her daughter's hair out behind her. "You must bring him for dinner soon." Sansa nodded as her her mother continued. "Darling, we love you with all of our hearts, and you know we will do _whatever_ it takes to keep you safe."

Ned put a hand on Sansa's shoulder. "Yes, dear. Please do not worry. I know that's easier said than done, but like your mother said, you can't let this set you back. Do not give him the pleasure of him still being able to control your life."

Sansa's visit with her parents gave her just enough strength and courage to tell Sandor the truth about her past. Sansa wanted nothing more than to be completely open with him. Open about everything. There was no sense in keeping this hidden, she knew she had to tell him. _"I'm leaving my parent's house now, may I still come over?"_

Sandor replied seconds later. _"Yea of course. Be careful."_

On the drive back into King's Landing, Sansa tried to imagine Sandor's reaction when she told him about Ramsay. It had been something she wanted to tell him after she got to know him a little better. But there was no way to avoid it now. Before she turned the engine off in front of Sandor's apartment. Sansa took a small makeup bag from her purse and touched up her face. She took a deep breath and texted Sandor and told him that she was here. A minute later, Sandor appeared at the door to let her in. Sansa froze when she saw him. All the strength that she thought she possessed left her body and her face crumpled in tears.

Reaching out for her, Sandor said lowly, "Hey...hey what's wrong?" His strong arms enveloped her body as she covered her face with her hands. Confused, Sandor had no choice but to hold her against his body as she sobbed. "C'mon, let's go inside." He said, gently pulling her towards his door. He lowered her onto his couch and sat next to her. "Sansa?" She sniffed and leaned her head onto his shoulder. Still in his work clothes, Sandor smelled like sweat, grease, and diesel fuel. But Sansa didn't care. Cautiously, Sandor put his arm around her. "Sansa...are you just going to sit here and cry, or are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Sandor tugged her trembling body away from his and studied her. " _Please_ tell me what's wrong."

Her lips shook as she opened them to speak. "I'm sorry to be just crying and crying like this, but..." She paused for a deep, steadying breath. "There's something I must tell you. I wanted to wait until we got to know each other a little better, but you...you need to know what sort of baggage I come with."

 _Oh Gods, this can't be good,_ Sandor thought as he watched her dab her eyes with the tissue he had given her. In the most reassuring voice he could muster, Sandor attempted to console her. "Sansa, whatever it is, I can handle it." Trying to make her laugh so she could relax a little, he added, "Unless it's herpes. That I cannot handle." Sandor searched her face for any hint of a smile, but her lips were still quivering. "Sorry, bad joke. Please just tell me."

"Sandor, I know you probably think I'm just a spoiled little Stark girl who has lived the perfect little life..."

Shaking his head, Sandor interjected, "No, I don't think that. I am well aware of who you are and what you come from, but I don't think you are spoiled. The comment I made at the bar...about your dad just buying you a new car-"

"Sandor, please let me finish!" Sansa said, a little louder than she intended. Taken aback, Sandor closed his mouth, preparing himself for whatever it was she had to say. "My ex, Ramsay Bolton is in prison."

Sandor gave Sansa a confused look. _Was this the baggage she was talking about?_ He let a small laugh escape his mouth. "I'm not sure what you're getting at, Sansa. Are you worried I'm going to think badly of you because of some shit choices your ex made? Are you upset that he went to prison, did he just get arrested or something?"

Steeling her nerves to reveal what she wanted to badly to forget, Sansa sighed. "No. He's been prison for...beating me."

"For bea- beating...you?" Sandor was so shocked and angered he could barely get the words out. Red flashed before his eyes at the thought of someone laying their hands on Sansa. Immediately, he lamented every thought that had crossed his mind about Sansa living a charmed, perfect life. Having been the recipient of a horrible act of violence himself, his heart immediately broke for her. "What happened?"

After a few calming breaths, Sansa began to tell Sandor the story of how her and Ramsay met, and how he had slowly turned sadistic during their courtship. Sandor sat and listened, tears stinging his eyes which he angrily blinked away.

"That morning though..." Sansa had reached the climax of her story. "That morning, he was getting ready for work and realized I had forgotten to pick up the dry cleaning. I knew it was going to be bad, but I had no idea..." Fresh tears began to fall from her eyes, already sore from crying. "That weekend, I had been studying for my final exam and it just _completely_ slipped my mind. He was so angry...over something so trivial." Sansa wiped her tears and continued telling him what she could remember about that horrible morning. How she had flown at him after the first blow to her face. How he had struck her again and again, until the debilitating hit that broke her ribs. "I could vaguely hear my brother's voice... _'Stay with me, Sansa, we're here...'_ Then I woke to my parents in the hospital room. Margaery was there, Arya and Rickon, too. I was in the hospital for two weeks."

Tenderly, Sandor reached up and held Sansa's face in his big, rough hands. With his thumbs, he wiped the tears that were sliding down her cheeks. " _Why_ didn't you tell anyone?" Sandor asked.

"I was scared. He told me he would kill me in my sleep if I breathed a word of it to anyone. He had an image to maintain." Anger replaced her sadness as she recalled his threatening words. Sansa had carried the newspaper inside with her. She pulled it out of her purse and held it out to Sandor. He took it and scanned the headlines. Realization hit him when he say the man's name.

His eyes flew to her. "Out on parole?"

Gravely, Sansa nodded. "Next month it seems." Sandor's arms opened as she leaned into him. He held her tightly as sobs shook her body. "Gods, Sandor...I'm so scared. Father's lawyer has drawn up a restraining order for him, but...he won't...he's...he's a _monster!"_ Not knowing what to do, Sandor just held her and kissed her forehead. Comforting people was not really something he had ever been good at, but for Sansa, he would try to be whatever kind of comfort she needed. This bastard had hurt her, and it made him furious that he was getting to see the light of day once again.

"Everything will be ok..." Were the only words he could manage. His own body was beginning to be taken over with a rage deep from within. For once in his life, he had found someone that made him feel like his soul was at peace, and he would be damned if someone tried to harm her again in any way.

Upon hearing his words, Sansa tore herself away from his embrace, almost hysterical. "No, no, you don't understand...everything will _not_ be ok!" She cried frantically. Her delicate fingers gripped his shirt as her breaths came in short, desperate spurts. "He'll come for me...he will find a way around that restraining order and he will hurt me again, I just know it-"

Tightening his grip on her elbows, Sandor looked at her, his eyes wild with rage. "No _you_ don't understand what I'm saying...I won't let anyone hurt you, Sansa...he won't come near you. If he does, I will kill him."

His words echoed in her mind as she studied his features. "Sandor, don't say that...I'd feel terrible if anything happened to you because of me. Then _you_ would be the one in prison."

"Sansa _look at me_...I _won't_ let that bastard hurt you anymore than he already has." The urgency in his voice was evident to Sansa. Something behind his eyes told her he meant what he said. It was a thrilling and scary thought that he would be willing to kill for her. To keep her safe. Sandor opened his mouth to continue, "I know we only just met, but..." he paused to stroke her petal soft cheek and struggled to find the words to express his feelings. "...I feel like...when I'm with you, I feel like my whole, dark past just doesn't matter anymore." Feelings and communicating them was something Sandor was not good at. In the back of his mind, though was the silent promise he had made to himself. To be everything Sansa needed, and if that meant spilling his heart to her, then so be it. He felt like she needed to hear this, so she could understand why he was so willing to do whatever it took to keep her safe. Sandor brushed her red hair behind her ear and let his fingers slide through the ends, savoring its smoothness. "You make me want to be a better man." Waiting for her response, his eyes lingered on hers.

Instead of saying anything though, new tears started to stream down her face. These tears were not from sadness, but from happiness, and a bit of relief. Never had she heard a man utter anything like that to her. For the first time since meeting him, Sansa started to feel like something real could actually happen between them. Exhausted, she laid her head on Sandor's chest and wept. His big arms found their way around her and hugged her close. "Do you want to go home?" He finally asked.

Sansa leaned up and nodded. After feeding Pierre and quickly changing out of his dirty work clothes, Sandor locked his apartment and led Sansa to her car. She handed him the keys and lowered herself into the passenger seat. Sandor drove them to her apartment and parked her car in the parking garage. Sansa felt her phone vibrate in her purse. Tyrion and Margaery had texted her. _"I just heard about Ramsay, are you ok?! Where are you?"_

Sansa typed her response to Margaery. _"Yes, I'm ok, for now. I just got to my apartment. Sandor is here with me."_

After a minute, Margaery replied, " _Ok, love, please let me know if you need anything."_

Sansa smiled at her friend's words and opened her text from Tyrion. _"I spoke to your father about the Ramsay situation. The staff will be discreetly alerted and kept informed."_

_"Thank you so much for everything."_

Tyrion sent back, _"Please take tomorrow off."_

Shaking her head at his words, Sansa responded, _"No, that won't be necessary. I'm ok."_

_"No, I insist. I'll arrange a substitute. You need to take a day off to compose yourself."_

Breathing a heavy sigh, Sansa conceded. _"Ok, thank you."_

_"See you Wednesday."_

Once in her apartment, Sansa locked both locks on the door and put her phone into her purse. "My headmaster told me to take the day off tomorrow."

Sandor grunted, "Well that was nice of him." He studied Sansa as she rubbed her eyes. "You look tired."

Nodding, Sansa collapsed onto the couch. She was mentally exhausted and had fallen into a near trance. The news had taken its toll on her for sure. Sandor joined her on the couch. "Why don't you take a hot shower and go to bed?"

Sansa rolled her head across the cushions to look at him. "Yes, that sounds good, I think I will."

In the shower, Sansa let the hot water soothe her tired eyes. Her head ached and her body was tense. Once she had blown her hair dry and dressed herself in some pajamas, Sansa crawled under the covers. She called to Sandor. He sauntered around the corner into her bedroom and knelt by her bed. "Will you hold me?" She whispered.

"I'll need to shower before getting in that clean bed with you. Is that ok?"

Sansa nodded and got up to get him a towel. Sandor pulled the bathroom door closed and stepped into the shower. He had to opt for 'calming lavender' body wash and some type of fancy looking shampoo. After drying himself and hanging his towel, Sandor pulled his underwear back on. He hoped he wouldn't offend Sansa by getting in bed almost naked with her. Of course being intimate with Sansa had been weighing heavily on his mind lately, but he knew there would be a time for that later. _Not tonight,_ he thought. In any other circumstance, Sansa would have been staring hungrily at Sandor's chiseled body as he emerged from the bathroom. But her eyes were glazed over as they fixated on the wall. The shivers that were plaguing her body subsided when she felt Sandor slip under the covers behind her. The warmth from his body radiated through hers. He put his arm around her body and hugged her close to his. After a length of time, Sansa turned her body to face him. Her voice was just above a whisper. "Please stay? I don't want to be alone right now."

Sandor pulled her even closer to him as she hooked her leg over his. "Of course." He rasped into her ear. He kissed her forehead and rested his chin on top of her head. It had been a very long time since Sandor had fallen asleep with a woman in his arms. The past few times he had hooked up with a woman, she had been hastily shooed from his bed before she got a chance to cuddle with him. But with Sansa, he savored every minute of holding her precious body before drifting off into the best night's sleep he had gotten in months.


	8. Chapter Eight

**A/N- Hello! Thank you so much for the kind reviews! I hope y'all are enjoying reading this story as much as I am enjoying writing it. I originally intended for this chapter to be a bit longer, but I felt like where I ended it would be a good stopping point for today. Sansa gets to hear more of Sandor's backstory...but not before they get to know each other's bodies a little better ;) Happy reading, and please let me know what you think! xoxo**

**P.S.- I promised you 'explicit'...so enjoy ;)**

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As Sansa began to stir the next morning, she was aware of the strong, masculine arms that were still around her tired body. Deciding that she loved waking up with his body pressed up next to hers, she smiled as she stroked the hair on Sandor's arms, savoring the silkiness of the it. _Had it all been a bad dream?_ She wondered as the alarm clock came into focus. No, she had slept in. Sleeping in felt good. She had slept in because Tyrion had told her to take the day off. He had told her to take the day off because of the bad news. News that Ramsay would be released soon. The time on the clock suddenly struck her. Sandor was still here and it was 10:17.

 _"Sandor!"_ Exclaimed Sansa as she shook his arm.

"Hmm?"

"It's past ten, don't you have to go to work?"

Stretching his long limbs, Sandor grumbled, "No, I texted Beric early this morning and told him I was not coming in today. I finished up on that truck I was working on yesterday. And they've got plenty of extra hands today." He put his arms back around Sansa and held her close. "I hardly ever take off, so I have a lot of personal days saved up." After kissing her forehead, he continued, "Plus I didn't want to leave you alone, seeing how upset you were yesterday."

His protectiveness stirred arousal in Sansa, and she found herself unable to restrain herself any longer. She laid her head on her chest and draped her leg over his. Slowly, she skimmed her hand across his chest, enjoying the feeling of his coarse chest hair underneath her fingers. With slow, carefully small movements, Sansa rocked her pelvis against his thigh, savoring the friction she was creating between her legs. Noticing her minute movements, Sandor's hand slid from her shoulders down to the small of her back, where he started rubbing and caressing, getting lower with each stroke, until his hand was grasping her firm round behind. Sansa groaned against his chest as he slipped his hand between her legs and began to massage gently with his fingers. Reaching up, she swept his hair away from his neck and brushed her lips against the stubble covered skin. When she found a spot under his jaw that she liked best, she opened her mouth and gently touched her tongue to his skin before kissing it. Repeating this in several different spots produced a low growl from Sandor's throat. Being kissed on his neck was one of Sandor's weaknesses, and it was driving him wild. _I thought she wanted to take it slow,_ he thought. _Fuck it._ He responded to her actions by pushing the cloth of her linen shorts aside to feel what was underneath. To his delight, she was not wearing any panties. With a delicate smoothness that surprised and excited Sansa, Sandor's fingertips found the outer edges of her slit, which were swollen with desire. His fingers ghosted across her tender opening, causing her body to squirm and push against his. Sansa's hand that had been resting on his broad chest began to glide lower, coming to his finely sculpted abdomen, and then to the spot right inside his hip, where his thigh started. Already knowing the destination of her hand, its tantalizingly slow movement made Sandor's breath catch in his throat. His cock swelled to its full potential as her hand skimmed its length. Having already felt his firmness against her thigh the other night, Sansa knew he was very well endowed. However, it was not until she glanced down that she realized just how _thick_ he was. His painfully hard manhood strained against the elastic fabric of his boxers, making it easy to see the whole outline down the leg hole. Sansa pressed her face back into his shoulder to stifle her gasp. As she let her hand slide up and down his rock hard shaft, Sansa could feel Sandor's fingers carefully exploring between her legs. He had slowly let his middle finger ease just inside her lips. A delicious warm feeling started to spread through her body as he slowly flicked the one finger back and forth across her slit, which was now slick with yearning.

Sandor's voice rumbled low in his throat as he whispered in her ear. "Are you feeling better after a good night's sleep?"

Breathless from the sensations Sandor's fingers were producing, Sansa nodded. "Good..." Sandor growled. In one smooth, quick motion, he grabbed Sansa's body and flipped her over onto her back. He settled himself between her knees and placed a hand on either side of her shoulders. Sansa could see the hunger in his eyes as they roamed her face. She reached for him at the same second he lowered his face to hers. As his lips covered hers, all thoughts of yesterday's events were obliterated, and Sansa's mind was fully preoccupied with the present. She tried to memorize every facet and ridge of his skin as her hands explored his firmly muscled body. Drunk with lust, Sandor's tongue pushed against her lips, which parted to grant him access into her mouth. Aware of Sansa's hands that were pulling him by his hips down to meet her, he lowered his body until it was pressing up against hers. Not wanting to crush her with his full weight, he supported his body on his elbows and forearms. But he positioned his cock between her legs and slowly began to rock his hips against her. Sansa lifted hers up to meet him. She was so wet with arousal, Sandor could feel the dampness beginning to saturate the fabric that still separated them. Sansa's breath came in ragged gasps as she ground against him with the same wanton desire that matched his.

 _Gods I want him so badly,_ Sansa thought as opened her mouth to his again. Never had she experienced a man who knew how to _really_ please a woman, and Sandor seemed like he knew how to do just that. The sight and feeling of his body on top of her produced feelings in Sansa she did not know she was capable of. A clawing, desperate desire was bubbling inside of her, dying to be fulfilled. As if he sensed her longing, Sandor broke contact with her lips to raise himself off of her. He hooked his thumbs under the hem of her shirt and slowly began to lift, letting his fingernails elicit goosebumps on her tender flesh. Sansa raised her upper body from the bed to allow him to remove her shirt. Throwing the shirt aside, Sandor stared at her breasts, his lips parted with desire. Being no stranger to exotic clubs, Sandor had seen his fair share of breasts. However, he had never seen a pair more perfect than hers. Sansa's breasts were full and round, each tipped with a rosy pink nipple, which were taught against the cool air in the room. Sandor reached down to her skin. Starting at her collarbone, he slid his hands slowly down until they had fully enveloped the soft curves of her chest. Sansa shuddered at the feeling of his rough hands on her smooth skin, willing him in her mind to keep going. An angry red scar caught his eye that was an inch or two below her right breast. His thoughts drifted back to Sansa's emotional story last night. Lightly, he traced his fingers along its length.

 _"Him?"_ The one word he spoke caused Sansa to nod her head yes and look away with tears in her eyes. Determined to snatch her thoughts away from her unpleasant memories, Sandor tipped her face with one finger gently back towards him.

Sandor's thumb and forefinger found its way to one of her perky nipples, which were erect and begging for attention. As he leaned down to kiss her open mouth, he rolled it in between his fingers, being very attentive to how Sansa reacted. Her perfect body arched up to meet his as a low moan slipped from her mouth. Sandor paid the same attention to her other nipple before raising himself away from her again.

Slipping his index finger into the waistband of her shorts, Sandor growled low, "I want to see all of you..."

Trembling with anticipation, Sansa nodded. Slowly, Sandor pulled at her shorts until they were low enough for her to kick away. Sansa rarely missed a waxing appointment, which she was very thankful of at this moment. Sandor could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his lustful eyes ravaged her body, coming to rest on the perfectly smooth flesh between her legs. He could see her wetness glistening on her swollen pink lips as she opened her legs for him. He was almost overcome with the urge to rip his own garment from his body and bury himself deep inside, but he refrained. A body like this had to be appreciated and worshiped, and doing that took precious time. For a woman like Sansa to have invited him into her bed was a monumental occasion for Sandor, and he would do whatever it took to be welcomed again.

"Gods, you're perfect..." Sandor breathed as he stared at her, his mouth agape. Sansa blushed furiously at his praise. Biting her lip, she beckoned him with her finger. As if she had snatched an invisible chain around his neck, Sandor lowered himself back on top of her. In perfect unison, their lips met in a passionate kiss. Sansa wrapped her legs around his waist and rolled her hips, brushing the slick, wet heat of her cunt against his throbbing shaft, still straining against his underwear. Sandor could feel her juices soaking him and he couldn't stand it any longer; he had to taste her. A low whine escaped Sansa's lips as he tore his mouth away from hers. Sandor's lips brushed lightly up against her neck, then her breasts, and her stomach...lower and lower until he was nibbling her hip. Bringing his hand to the apex of her legs, he slowly slipped a finger inside. Gasping at the sensation, Sansa's hands struggled for purchase and grasped handfuls of the bed sheet. Slowly, Sandor curved his finger up before drawing it out again. He repeated this again and again before adding a second finger. Her slick walls pressed against his fingers in the most wonderful way. It made his manhood ache with desire for her. He slowly extracted his fingers from her body, savoring the image of her juices stringing away from her body as he brought his fingers to his lips to taste her sweetness. As Sansa watched, her body flushed crimson and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered furiously against the lining. Bending a knee to his mouth, Sandor began a trail of tantalizingly slow kisses down her leg, leading to her still dripping slit. Pausing at her opening before leading his kisses and licks up the inside of her other thigh, he inhaled her womanly scent.

 _"Oh yes..."_ he whispered as his lips found her warm flesh once more. He inserted his fingers again and thrilled at the feeling of her walls clasp around it. With his thumb, he found her clit and slowly began circling it. Sansa never knew she could feel such pleasure from a man. None of her other beaus had taken their time with her body as he was doing. Sandor snaked his fingers in and out of her, delighting in the sight of her body losing control. Gently, he bit and nipped the inside of her thigh.

"OOH..." Sansa gasped at the wonderful feeling. Immediately, she felt a rush of heat to her already warm woman's place. She threw her hands back behind her and grabbed at her pillows. Sandor pulled out his fingers and positioned his lips between her legs. He kissed her there before flicking his tongue against her clit. Sandor sucked and licked and pressed his fingers back inside of her, curving them up to hit that sweet spot inside. Sansa could feel her orgasm coiling inside of her and she rolled her pelvis against his lips. She quickened her movements as the delicious throbbing sensation stemming from deep within began to spread to her limbs. Her mouth opened and let her orgasmic wail erupt from her lips as her body jerked and shuddered in response to her peak. Splashes of color danced behind her eyelids as the feeling tore through her body. Satisfied with her reaction, Sandor leaned up and wiped his mouth on her discarded shirt. Trying to regain her composure, Sansa lay on the bed panting.

She raised herself on her elbows and gazed at him, her head dizzy from her release. "That was..." Sansa struggled to find the words. "... _the_ most wonderful orgasm I have every had."

With a wicked grin on his face, Sandor laid back on the bed next to her. "Good." He leaned over her and kissed her full, panting lips. "You deserve that often...and from a man that knows how to do it."

Giggling, Sansa returned his kiss with fervor. "I think you know what you're doing, there." She reached for his manhood, still straining to be free. "I just hope I can make you feel as good as you just made me..." Sansa took a deep breath before placing herself between his legs. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs and pulled down. Sandor's massive erection sprung free. At the base was a spread of thick, black hair that connected to that on his stomach. Everything about his body was utterly masculine. And _beautiful._ Without realizing it, her eyes grew wide.

"See something you like?" Sandor's voice rumbled in his throat.

The thought of Sandor's massive shaft inside of her made Sansa's breath hitch in her lungs. Smirking, she whispered, "I have never seen one so big." Truthfully, Sansa had seen several others, but Sandor's had to be the most perfect. It stood tall and straight, veins lacing the length underneath the smooth skin, dark from being engorged with arousal.

"Touch it." Urged Sandor. Sansa obeyed. She ran her fingers along the thick shaft. The silky smooth skin moved when she applied pressure with her fingers, but the hardness underneath remained. She wrapped her hand around the base. Such was his girth that she found she could not get even her longest finger to touch her thumb. Having waited far too long to feel a woman's touch on his most private of parts, Sandor knew he would not last long. Sansa's tiny hand did not take up much room on his length, so she placed her other hand above it. Slowly, Sansa began to move her hands up and down, squeezing slightly on the downward stroke. A primal grown came from Sandor's throat, a clear sign he was enjoying her touch. She rotated her hands in countering directions as she slowly pumped them up and down his cock. Sansa dipped her head down and opened her mouth. Quickly, she flicked her tongue across the head.

"Oh, Sansa..." Gasped Sandor in surprise. Sansa kept her hands moving while she ran her tongue up and down his length. She opened her mouth wide and took in as much of it as she could. Sandor buried his hands into her silky hair. Sansa sucked and massaged with her tongue while moving and rotating her hands, milking his massive cock. Sandor could feel himself nearing his peak. The sensation was overwhelming. This beautiful creature, with her pretty mouth on his dick. _She_ wanted him, and knowing that made his belly burn with his impending orgasm. His breathing quickened as he circled his hips under her face. All he could think about was how good his dick would feel pressing up against her walls, stretching her to her limit. His whole body tensed. Quickly, Sandor put his hands on Sansa's shoulders and sat her up, away from him. Gripping a hand on top of hers, he stroked strong and quick, showing her how to milk him. Sandor moaned rough and loudly as his milky sperm erupted from the head in great spurts. Streams and streams spilled out onto Sandor's stomach as he gripped the bed sheets with his free hand. HIs chest heaved up and down.

Dumbfounded, Sandor lay there on the bed trying to remember how to breathe properly. Sansa offered him her shirt to wipe himself. Once he was rid of the sticky cum on his stomach, Sandor pulled Sansa close and threw the covers back on top of them. _"You..."_ Sandor panted, "...you...woman, will most definitely be the death of me." Sansa giggled at his actions, thrilled with what she had just done. "That was...I honestly cannot put into words how good that felt. _Fucking amazing,_ is the only thing I can come up with right now." Exhausted again from their passionate laboring, they quickly fell asleep in each other's arms.

Some time later, Sandor woke. He glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was past noon. Sansa was still asleep in the crook of his arm with her head against his chest. Her long, feminine eyelashes rested on her cheeks. I _'ll never get enough of this..._ Sandor thought as he stared at the beautiful woman asleep in his arms. Their still naked bodies lay flush together, Sansa's leg wrapped around his leg that was closest to her. His stomach growled so loud that Sansa began to stir. _Damn stomach._

"What time is it?" Asked Sansa as she rubbed her eyes.

"Past lunchtime." Replied Sandor as he sat up and laid against the headboard. He stretched his long arms above his head and then leaned his torso down towards his thighs. The tattoo on his back was finally in full view. Sansa studied it. It was a figure of a woman wrapped in a dark cloak. The covering on her body was beautifully detailed, the folds and drapes shaded expertly. Protruding from under the cloak was a pair of female hands, pressed together, praying. Dangling from the hands was a long beaded chain, with the seven pointed star hanging from it. The hood of the cloak was pulled up, but instead of a woman's face peeking out from underneath, there was the gaunt skull of a horse in its place. Behind the woman was a detailed spider web fading into the rest of his back and roses shaded with so much detail, they looked as though they were fashioned from velvet. As Sansa reached out to touch the tattoo, she whispered, "This is so beautiful..."

"Thanks." Sandor murmured. "Got it done a few years ago when I was going through some dark shit."

Letting her thoughts leave her lips, Sansa asked, "What does it mean?"

Sandor sighed. "The death of innocence."

Without any further explanation needed, Sansa understood what he meant. "All your innocence has gone, too?"

Sandor turned to face her. "Long ago."

"Sandor, when you mentioned you had a 'dark past' the other night...you weren't just talking about your ex, were you?"

Turning away from her, Sandor shook his head. "No." He heaved a sigh and laid his body back against the headboard. "Do you remember me saying I had a brother?"

Sansa nodded, "Yes, the one who died."

"Well, before he died..." Sandor closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself to tell Sansa his not so happy memory from childhood, "...he gave me this." Sandor pointed a long finger at his scars, eliciting a gasp from Sansa's lips. She drew her legs up and hugged them to her chest as she listened. "I was probably about 6 or 7 years old. My brother Gregor, was near 10 or 12, I don't remember exactly, he was already almost six feet tall. He was always hateful to me, I shouldn't really be surprised that this is from him." He touched his scarred face. "One day, a man who worked for my father gave us some toys. A present for each of us. I don't remember what I got. Gregor didn't want his, and left it on the living room rug. I wanted to play with his, so I did. It was a model of a Harley Davidson motorcycle. The wheels turned and everything." Telling the story always took a lot out of Sandor, emotionally, but if Sansa was going to understand him fully, she needed to hear it. "I didn't _steal_ it, I was just _playing_ with it. Gregor came back into the living room and saw me playing with his motorcycle. He never said a word, just picked me up by my neck, drug me to the fireplace and held me there...held me as my face burned and melted."

Tears sprung from Sansa's eyes and she clutched her mouth in horror.

"The pain was bad. The smell was worse. But the worst thing was that it was my _brother_ who did it. And my father, who protected him, told everyone that I tripped while playing, and fell into the hearth. Everybody believed him, too. My father refused to allow plastic surgery to fix some of the scarring." A twisted laugh came from Sandor. "Could you imagine going through high school looking like this?" He shook his head. "About five or so years later, my father died...fell down the concrete stairs in the parking garage that was attached to our apartment building. No one could prove it, but to this day, I will swear in front of all the Gods themselves that it was Gregor who pushed him."

Not knowing what to say, Sansa continued to let the silent tears slide down her cheeks. She clasped her hands around one of his.

"After that, Gregor went to live with my uncle in Lannisport. The Dondarrions took me in. I stayed bitter about the whole thing most of my life. I was a miserable cuss to be around. Always sulking, fighting, getting into trouble, being hateful to anyone who tried to get close to me." His mouth stretched into a thin line. "Things got better for me after I found Audrina. I know this part of the story you probably don't want to hear...but in a way, she helped me let go of some of my anger. Showed me that I can be loved if I just let someone in. Of course, she fucked me over in the worst way possible, but hey...that's life." Sandor looked into Sansa's ocean blue eyes and covered her hands with his. "At least now I know I am capable of feeling that way again someday..."

Sansa's heart leapt into her throat when she heard him say those words. _This could be real..._ she insisted to herself again. "What happened to Gregor?" She asked.

"About three years ago, I got a call from an attorney in Lannisport. He told me that my brother had overdosed on heroin, and did I want to arrange him a funeral." Smiling a little, Sandor went on. "I told him no...I wanted him cremated." His smile spread as he laughed. "The only type of revenge I could get, I guess. The only thing I'm sorry about is that Gregor wasn't alive when they switched the incinerator on."

Upon hearing his brutish and barbaric words, Sansa gulped. Sensing her discomfort from hearing his story, Sandor reached a hand up to rest at the nape of her neck. "Sansa, I want you to understand something. What he did affected me in such a way that I will never be the same. I'll always hold onto some level of resentment and have animosity towards my family for what they put me through. But, I don't let it completely consume me like I used to let it do. I might still be an asshole sometimes, but I am no where near the man I used to be." Sandor pulled her in to embrace her. She wrapped her slender arms around his broad back. He pulled her into his lap and laid their bodies back against the headboard.

"I'm glad you told me that story." Sansa whispered into his neck. "And I'm glad you're not the man you used to be."

Sandor grunted and laughed. "You would not have liked the man I used to be..."

"I sure do like the man you are now."

Sandor closed his eyes and drank in the sweetness of the moment. The most beautiful woman in Westeros had heard his dark story, and she wasn't shying away. In the past, Sandor had used that story to disgust women into leaving him. The polar opposite had happened with Sansa. Instead, she had her body intertwined with his. Her heart fluttered against his skin. He could feel it in her body that she wanted him. She wanted to be with him. Sandor only hoped that _he_ wouldn't be the one to shy away. He could feel himself slipping dangerously close to the edge. How was he having such strong feelings for this woman after only a few days? The though was absolute ludicrous. _Just give in,_ he thought harshly to himself. Too many times he had pushed a woman away because he was scared of letting himself go again. Sansa was the sort of woman he wouldn't mind getting himself lost in...and he was doing just that.


	9. Chapter Nine

**I am happy that y'all like this story! It started out simply as my over the top, self-indulgent fantasy...living vicariously through Sansa. Thank you so much for the comments, I love the feedback, and it gives me a boost to keep posting! Please let me know what you think! Happy reading xoxo**

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Pierre beat his tail impatiently on the door as Sandor approached it to let him out. He and Sansa had finally gotten themselves out of bed to eat some lunch and to visit his apartment to let him out.

"Are you still up for watching us practice tonight?" Sandor asked as Sansa leaned into him for a hug. She nodded against his chest. "Good. The garage we work in isn't much to look at, but it has a loft that's perfect for all of our equipment."

"Does Beric own the garage where you work?" Asked Sansa.

Sandor shook his head. "No, it belongs to his uncle, but he's got some health problems and is getting on up there in age. None of his daughters are interested in keeping the business going, so it'll probably go to Beric when the old man passes away." He looked down at Sansa and tipped her chin up to him for a kiss. "You know, I'll never get tired of being able to do that, little bird." Sandor whispered to her.

The warm, tingly feeling in Sansa's heart hadn't left since their endeavors in the bedroom that morning. "Good." She whispered back. "Neither will I." Sighing happily, she looked around. "I just love your apartment. I was very surprised when I saw it," she added, winking at him.

Sandor scoffed. "What...were you expecting, posters of naked women and Jack Daniels bottles cluttering the floor?"

Laughing and shaking her head, Sansa teased, "No...not the Jack Daniels bottles."

"Maybe in my earlier years, you would have seen the naked women." Sandor joked with a hearty laugh. "But not now." His arms snaked back around her waist. "I've got the only woman I care to look at _right_ here in my arms."

 _"Good."_ Huffed Sansa. "I don't handle competition very well."

"You won't ever have to." Sandor reassured her. "As long as you are loyal and honest to me, I'll be faithfully yours." Leaning his head down, he touched his forehead to hers. _"Forever."_

The word forever hung in the air. Sansa let the thought sink in to her mind as she ran her hands across the white button up shirt Sandor had changed into. _Forever..._ she thought to herself. For the second time that day, Sansa told herself that this...them, _could be real_. "I think I'd like that." She whispered finally.

"Me too." A sudden thought crossed Sandor's mind, as he stood with his arms wrapped protectively around Sansa's slim body. It was a long shot, but he figured he would ask anyway. "Sansa, this is probably a stupid question...but do you own a gun?"

Wrinkling her brow, Sansa studied Sandor's dark eyes. _What did he have in mind?_ "No, I don't. But I actually do have my concealed carry permit." Sandor raised his good eyebrow in surprise. "After Ramsay attacked me last fall, my sister, who is quite a weapons specialist, helped me get certified to carry as a Christmas present."

Nodding his head, Sandor walked to his bedroom. He opened the top drawer of his dresser and retrieved a small revolver. He brought it back into the greatroom and handed it to Sansa. Hesitantly, she took it. "Don't worry, it's not loaded." Carefully, Sansa turned the gun over in her hands to examine it. It was solid matte black and lighter than she expected. "It's a Ruger .38. Is it too heavy for you?"

With her elbows straight, Sansa raised it up until it entered her line of sight and held it out. "No, it feels ok."

"I don't have any full cartridges for it right now, I'll have to get some bullets. But when he gets out, if you would like to carry it, you can." He took the gun and placed it back in his drawer. "It would make me feel better if you did. I know I won't always be there to protect you."

"What about you? You won't need it?" Sansa wondered out loud.

"No, I've got another." Sandor shook his head as he went back into his room. From his nightstand drawer, he produced a longer, much heavier looking revolver. "Plus, I've got a 12 gauge shotgun in my closet." He spun the cylinder of the revolver and peered inside as he commented, "Now this one stays loaded, so don't go poking around in my nightstand." He held the gun up for Sansa to see. "Smith and Wesson .44 magnum revolver."

"It's big." Replied Sansa. With a coy smile, she added, "Like you." She gestured with her eyes down to his manhood, which even flaccid, could easily be seen through the jean fabric if you were staring at it hard enough.

Once they made it to the garage, Sansa took in the large expanse of the bay doors that were on the street side of the shop where he worked. "Wow."

Sandor grinned as he slung his guitar case across his other shoulder from the one he had been carrying it on.

"But if you mostly work on big trucks, how do they get in the shop? They're pretty long, and I bet it would be a tight squeeze from the street."

"If they're coming to get worked on, usually they don't have the trailer attached." Sandor explained with an amused look on his face.

Sansa nodded. "Oh. Well I guess that makes sense."

After entering the shop through a side door, Sansa heard Margaery's voice ring out above her. "Sansa!" She looked up to see her friend waving from a loft area above the back of the garage. Sansa smiled and climbed the stairs behind Sandor.

They hugged and sat on the old leather couch in front of the makeshift stage area. The men set up their equipment and began to ready their instruments for practice. "I missed you today," Margaery pouted. "How are you?"

Nodding, Sansa said, "I'm ok." Margaery arched an eyebrow. "Really...I'm good. I spoke to my dad and he's gotten our lawyer to draw up a restraining order for myself, the apartment and the school."

"Good." Margaery said as she fluffed the tousled waves of her ponytail. "I've been worried about you...really." Giving her friend a sad look, she added, "I hate what that prick did to you. And I hate him for it."

"Well, on a more exciting topic...I must tell you about this morning..." Sansa said as she glanced over at Sandor to make sure he wasn't listening. It seemed like he was preoccupied with his guitar.

Eyes wide with elation, Margaery leaned in. "What?!" She hissed.

Sansa edged closer to her friend, who bounced up and down on the couch cushions, awaiting her story. In explicit detail, she told Margaery of her encounter with Sandor.

Smirking at the girls who were engrossed in their gossip, Sandor plugged his guitar in and began to tune it. Over the sound of his instrument, he could hear Margaery's excited shrieking from what he could only guess was a story about their acts of love in Sansa's bedroom that morning. He had never minded if women gossiped about him that way. It didn't inflate his ego, but rather gave him confidence that he otherwise wouldn't have gotten. He was good in bed and he knew it. But what he was happy about at that moment was the fact that Sansa was satisfied with his skills and his body. Satisfied enough to inform her best friend about it, anyway. The men played their songs and shouted corrections at each other over the sounds of the music. Sansa's eyes kept wandering to Sandor as she listened to them play, his hair swaying in response to his head bobbing in time with the music. An ache appeared between her legs as she watched his fingers maneuver nimbly up and down the strings, the same fingers that had expertly helped bring her to an intoxicating release just hours ago. Almost reading her mind, Margaery leaned to Sansa's ear.

"Don't worry...I'm sure there's more where that came from." She said, winking at Sansa. They clapped with earnest when the song the men were playing ended.

Speaking into his microphone, Tormund said, "Thank you, thank you to the two most beautiful ladies in all the lands...for coming to hear _Midnight Envy_..." For emphasis, he growled the last two words. Sansa caught Sandor staring at her. He winked and opened his mouth in a silent snarl that sent shivers down her spine.

The men played for a few more minutes before taking a break. Beric and Thoros opened the refrigerator in the loft for a cold beer. Tormund flopped on the couch and pulled Margaery into his lap. After unshouldering his guitar, Sandor joined Sansa as she leaned on the railing that overlooked the shop floor downstairs.

"I thought you were going to wear a skirt for me." Sandor's voice rumbled low in her ear. Sansa drew in a sharp breath as he slipped his hand into the back pocket of her jeans and squeezed.

"What would you do with me right now if I had worn a skirt...?"

Lighting a cigarette, Sandor leaned his elbow on the railing. He looked at Sansa and winked. "First, I'd have to rid you of whatever was underneath." He exhaled smoke over the edge of the loft and tightened his grip inside her pocket. "Then we would probably have to make a visit to the office downstairs and draw the blinds...because I would do things I wouldn't want anyone else to see." Sandor eyed her carefully. "Does my smoking bother you?"

Shrugging, Sansa turned her body to face him. "I don't particularly care for it, but I have endured worse habits from men than smoking. If that's your worst vice, I feel like I could live with it."

"Good to know. I've smoked for years and I enjoy it. I'll quit one day...but not today." He turned and slipped the cigarette butt into a discarded beer bottle on a nearby table.

The band practiced for another hour. When they were satisfied with their song "Angel," Tormund called it quits and insisted on eating. "What about Tate's?" He asked in his deep, growling voice.

Sandor shook his head. "Nah, we ate there for lunch today."

"Well how about Crossroads? I haven't been there in a while." Margaery suggested.

"Excellent, I've been craving a good quesadilla burger." Thoros replied with a clap of his hands. Crossroads was an eclectic little restaurant, well within walking distance that was well known for its wings and burgers. While the men were putting their band equipment away, Sansa went downstairs in search of the bathroom. Sandor gestured Margaery over to the loft railing where he was leaning.

"What's up?" Asked Margaery.

"I'd like to take Sansa somewhere special. A first date, I guess you could say. Where does-"

Holding a finger up, Margaery cut him off. "Luwin's. It's her favorite place to eat. She loves the apple wine they have there. Don't let her drink more than three glasses. Four glasses, she'll get sloppy. Lemon cakes for dessert. They are her absolute favorite." Margaery smiled sweetly and raised her eyebrows at Sandor.

After taking it all in, Sandor repeated, "Luwin's, apple wine, lemon cakes...got it." He breathed a heavy sigh. "I just want to...show her that I really do care." Leaning closer, he continued with a lower voice. "She told me about what that bastard did to her. Told me all about it."

Grimly, Margaery looked at Sandor. "That relationship almost ruined her. I hate that man with every fiber of my body." Margaery shuddered at the memory of Sansa laying in the hospital bed, face black and blue, a bandage around her torso. "She really likes you, Sandor.." She paused and looked out over the shop. "The past few days have been the happiest I have seen her in a long time."

That brought a smile to Sandor's face. "Well I really like her too."

An idea suddenly popping into her head, Margaery smiled and narrowed her eyes at Sandor, who grunted in response. "What?" A fresh cigarette hung from his lips.

"I know what you could do if you _really_ wanted to make Sansa happy."

With hope in his eyes, Sandor replied, "Oh yea, what's that?" _Gods, woman...please don't say 'quit smoking.'_

"Tell her you'd like to be her date for the Children's Benefit Gala."

 _I think I'd rather quit smoking_ , Sandor thought as he rolled his cigarette between his fingers, letting the ash fall away. "Oh Gods...that fancy party?"

"That's the one!"

Rolling his eyes, Sandor inhaled and then blew smoke over his shoulder. "I was afraid of that. Fancy parties aren't really my _thing_."

Having overheard Ros' words at the faculty meeting yesterday, Margaery crossed her arms and used them. "But this is _her_ thing, and _she_ is _your_ new _thing_. Besides, I've asked Tormund to be my date, so you wouldn't be without a friend."

Upon hearing his name, Tormund leapt to her side. "What's this I hear about a date?" He threw his arms around Margaery and proceeded to lay provocative kisses on her neck.

Laughing, Margaery replied, "You're coming to the gala with me, aren't you?"

"Only if I get to wear a white tuxedo."

Sandor threw his head back and scoffed. "So this is a _tuxedo_ thing?"

Margaery nodded. "Yes it is. Plus, if you donate at least ten dollars, you'll get free drinks."

Narrowing his eyes, Sandor asked, "What kind of drinks?"

"Well they will have a full bar. Alcohol in people's systems means higher bidding for the auction. _But_ you would be under strict orders not to get shitfaced." Authoritatively, Margaery pointed a finger at the men and waved it back and forth between their two faces. Footsteps ascending the stairs could be heard as Sansa made her way back up to the loft. Margaery looked sharply at Sandor. "Don't you _dare_ tell her I said anything to you about the gala."

"My lips are sealed." Mumbled Sandor.

At dinner, Sandor was crossing his fingers that the topic of the gala wouldn't be brought up. He would have no such luck though, because Margaery had busied herself asking Sansa about some of the auction items. "So your father is offering a round of golf at the country club with Mayor Baratheon for the auction? I didn't know Robert played golf."

As she set her drink down, Sansa laughed, "Yes, apparently it's quite a sight."

"Hold up, hold up..." Interrupted Thoros as he held his hands up. "If rounds of golf can be auctioned off, could you auction some of my yoga sessions?"

"Yes, but only if you donate them." Sansa explained. "Your studio would be advertised as a sponsor on the website and on the auction brochure."

"Excellent." Nodding his head and rubbing his hands together, Thoros continued, "Well then, I'd like to donate five sessions of my hot yoga class, _Fire Goddess_...compliments of Red Yoga."

Sansa smiled. "Thank you, Thoros! That's very generous of you. Just issue some type of certificate for the sessions that can be auctioned and have it to me by the 26th." Wanting to ask him about the gala, Sansa turned her smiling face to Sandor, who was busy with his plate of wings. One thing she had definitely learned about him so far was that he was not to be pestered while he was eating. Especially something he seemed to be enjoying as much as the 'dracarys' flavor wings he had ordered...which he was having to wash down with copious amounts of beer. She turned to Margaery instead. "So do you want to go to Neiman Marcus tomorrow afternoon and pick up our dresses?"

Smiling and nodding, Margaery exclaimed, "Absolutely! I can't wait."

Once everyone was finished with their meals, they went their separate ways. Except for Sansa and Sandor. They walked slowly back to Sansa's building, savoring their last few minutes together before they parted ways for the evening. "You sure you'll be ok tonight?" Sandor asked once they reached her apartment door. He had insisted on accompanying her all the way upstairs. "I don't mind staying to watch over you."

Feeling her face burn with emotion, Sansa looked down and smiled. "I'll be ok." She gazed back up at him and put her hands on his shoulders. "I need to give you time... _to miss me_." She added. Standing up on her toes, Sansa kissed him on his lips. As she lowered herself back onto her heels, Sandor caught her arms and deepened their kiss. Warmth spread from their point of contact and reached every nerve in his body. The kiss was Sandor's salvation and torture. His salvation in that each moment spent with Sansa was saving him from the horrible pattern of self destructive behavior he had started to fall into again prior to meeting her. She was his torture because each moment he spent with her, he knew they were coming closer and closer to another passionate encounter. So close...but yet so far away. Remembering his conversation with Margaery earlier, he drew his lips away from hers and whispered in her ear.

"What are you doing Friday night?"

"No plans." Sansa replied, shaking her head.

A sly smile crossed Sandor's lips. "Well then, I'd like to take you out. On a date, I guess."

Sansa deliberately arched one eyebrow higher than the other. "Oh...are we _dating_ now?" She asked with a smirk. Even though she meant the question as a joke, she was dying to hear what his response would be.

Sandor grinned wickedly down at her. "I guess we'll know after Friday night..."

That night, Sansa fell asleep with her heart full and a smile on her face.

As her students filed into her classroom Wednesday morning at school, Sansa got a text from Sandor. _"Missed you and your gorgeous body last night."_

Sansa smiled at her screen and typed. _"Missed you too. And your sexy body."_

She quickly put her phone in her desk drawer as the assistant headmaster, Bronn Blackwater entered her room. "Good morning, Ms. Stark."

"Good morning Mr. Blackwater." Bronn was not only the assistant headmaster, but the head football coach as well. He also had several connections high within the police department. A jack of all trades, he was a very handy guy to know.

Sansa stood as he approached her desk. "I just wanted to let you know, Tyrion informed me of the situation with, well you know..." He was speaking in a hushed tone so her students couldn't hear him. "I have arranged for Lonny to walk you to your car each afternoon, when he, you know... _gets out."_ The man he spoke of, Lonny, was the school's security guard. Always eager to help, he too was someone you wanted to have around.

"Thank you, Mr. Blackwater, that's very kind of you." Even though all of the teachers were on a first name basis with both the headmasters of the school, they used their proper names when addressing them in front of their students. "I will probably start doing more of my grad school work at home anyway, once that time comes, to avoid being alone up here too long."

Bronn nodded. "Yes, that's probably wise. But you know how to reach me should you ever need me."

Sansa nodded and smiled appreciatively at him.

Bronn turned to leave. "Have a good day, kids."

Sansa's class responded in unison, "Have a good day, Mr. Blackwater."

The morning was dragging on a little slower than Sansa preferred. Her phonics lesson on combination ur took up far less time than she thought it would. She found herself with some rare spare time before their recess.

"Will you read us a book, Ms. Sansa?" Lillian asked, her blonde ponytail being twirled between her fingers. Sansa smiled and walked to the classroom library as her 15 students followed close on her heels.

"What shall it be?" Sansa wondered out loud as she scanned the shelf. She tapped her head, pretending to have a brilliant idea. "I know! Rachel, you are my student of the week...would you like to pick a book out?"

Grinning ear to ear, Rachel stepped around her seated classmates to pick out a book. She reached for one that Sansa recognized instantly. With a soft smile, Sansa took it and read the title to her students. _"Florian and Jonquil._ You like this one?"

Still smiling, Rachel nodded. Sansa leaned close to the girl. "Me too." She settled into her rocking chair and began the story.

_"Once upon a time, there lived a fair maiden they called Jonquil. She was very beautiful and very clever..."_

It had been years since Sansa had read the book. She was taken back to her days of innocence, when her mother had read that same book to her over and over until the binding came loose. Thoughts of Sandor flooded her mind as she turned the pages. He was not the Florian in the book, but he could be _her_ Florian.

 _"And as he gazed upon his fair maiden, the gallant Florian thought to himself 'I think I could believe in love after all'."_ Sansa closed the book and looked at her children's faces. "And, as with any other fairytale you know, they lived..."

"Happily ever after!" Her students finished for her.

As she knelt to put the book back in its box, Sansa couldn't help but think that she could believe in love after all too. She was sure that her relationship with Sandor would in no way be labeled as a fairytale, but the ending _'happily ever after'_ seemed like a good thing to look forward to.

"Can we go out to play now, Ms. Sansa?" Asked a small red headed boy named Phillip.

Standing up, Sansa replied, "Yes, go get your snacks and quietly find your spots in line."

It was a beautiful, warm spring day. Sansa smiled as her students ran past her to the playground. She lowered herself onto a bench next to Margaery on the edge of the play area. "I have a date on Friday night."

Feigning surprise, Margaery exclaimed, "Oh really, who with?"

"Sandor, of course. I asked him if that meant we were _dating."_ Replied Sansa, her face growing hot at the memory.

Smiling and propping her elbow on the back of the bench to face her friend, Margaery asked, "Well...what did he say?"

Sansa bit her lip and giggled and imitated Sandor's gruff voice, "He said _'I guess we'll know after Friday'._ " She glanced at Margaery, who was grinning.

"Well then, I supposed that means you might have a boyfriend again come Friday night."

Sansa's heart started beating a little faster. "I supposed you're right."

"When are you going to ask him to be your date for the gala?"

Shrugging, Sansa looked out over their students playing. "I'm still trying to figure out a good way to ask him. I'm worried he'll say no.

Margaery straightened her sunglasses. "I bet he would say yes."

During the rest of their time at recess, they made plans to go get their dresses that afternoon, and chatted back and forth about how their hair should be worn for the event. As they spoke, though, Sansa's mind was preoccupied with Sandor and his intriguing, dark nature. Sansa considered herself a realist, and liked to imagine the good outcome and the bad outcome of her present situations. She allowed herself to think about what would happen should Ramsay actually break the restraining order and seek her out. She wasn't thinking too much about what Ramsay would do to _her,_ but rather, _what would Sandor do to Ramsay?_ Sansa had no trouble believing Sandor's ominous words... _"He won't come near you. If he does, I will kill him."_

"Michael, please don't throw woodchips." Sansa called, absentmindedly to one of her boys. The image of Ramsay, bloodied and broken entered her mind. The only thing that she lamented about that thought was what would happen to Sandor if he were to harm him in her defense? _Hopefully it wouldn't ever come to that,_ Sansa finally decided solemnly to herself.

That afternoon dragged on just as slow as the morning had. Sansa texted Sandor again after lunch. _"I'm looking forward our date on Friday."_

Minutes later, her phone vibrated in her drawer. _"Me too."_ Was all it said. A bit disappointed that he hadn't said more, Sansa slid her phone back into her desk drawer and turned her attention back to her students. For the rest of the day, she kept herself busy with them and their math work, and tried her hardest not to think about Sandor.

When she sat in the front passenger's seat of Margaery's black BMW after school, she hadn't heard anymore from Sandor. Before leaving her room, she had sent him a Snapchat of herself at her desk, making a relieved face saying _"Thank goodness it's 3:30!"_ He had opened it, but had not responded. Trying not to worry about it, Sansa dismissed it from her mind. When they got to Neiman Marcus, Sansa and Margaery went straight to the dresses. When Sansa tried the green dress on, she looked so exquisite, it almost took her own breath away. It fit perfectly. The dress Margaery had picked out was black satin and fit very snug from its sweetheart neckline down to her hips, where it flared out. A slit revealed one of her slim, tanned legs. They spent the rest of the evening shopping for shoes and jewelry that would go nicely with their gala dresses.

The rest of the week went by much like it did on Wednesday. Slow and dragging. Sansa had gotten a bit behind on her schoolwork, and even though she was a bit sad that Sandor had made plans with his friends on Thursday night, she was relieved to get caught up on her papers. She texted back and forth with him occasionally, and they spoke on the phone before bed. He seemed a bit more reserved than usual on the phone though, and it troubled Sansa. It seemed like he had something on his mind that was bothering him. On Friday morning, when she asked him if he still wanted to go on their date that evening, Sandor had said, _"Of course, why wouldn't I?"_

Friday evening, Sansa spilled her insecurities about her communication with Sandor to Margaery as she did her makeup for their date. "I hope I haven't shared too much with him too soon," Sansa began as she closed her eyes so Margaery could apply eyeliner. "The topic of Ramsay and I is pretty heavy."

Margaery fanned her hand in front of Sansa's face to help the eyeliner dry. "Well, it's something that he should know. Besides, he shared details about his past that were _pretty heavy_ too."

Twisting her mouth to one side, Sansa replied, "Yea, good point." Having sworn her to absolutely secrecy, Sansa had told Margaery the story of Sandor's scars. Margaery had always been very trustworthy, and Sansa knew she could count on her to keep that type of information to herself. "He won't tell me where he's taking me. So I have no idea what to wear."

"Something nice."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "That's a lot of help."

After disappearing into Sansa's closet to rummage for a moment, Margaery came out with a red slip dress with thin straps. "I've never worn it." Sansa commented, looking at the tags. She remembered the occasion for which she had bought it. Ramsay had scheduled a dinner meeting with some coworkers and had asked Sansa to come along. Having been excited to meet some of Ramsay's colleagues, she had gone shopping. But Ramsay had been disappointed in the dress (and had forcefully made his feelings apparent), and had insisted she wear something more _classy_. Feeling spiteful, Sansa took the dress off the hanger and put it on.

 _"Wow..."_ Margaery said, excitedly clapping her hands together. The dress hung loose around her hips as it flared slightly, ending a few inches above her knees. It was just low enough in the front to show off her perfectly cleaved chest. Satisfied with the choice, Sansa sat at her vanity for Margaery to curl her hair. Once her hair hung in loose, but voluminous waves, Sansa stood back and looked in the mirror.

"You look amazing." Commented Margaery.

Sansa slipped her feet into a pair of red pumps, which accentuated her long legs. She smiled at Margaery. "Thank you. It's past seven, he said he would be here at seven." No sooner had she gotten the words out of her mouth, a text came through her phone. _"I'm outside your building."_

Sandor had been nervously pacing the sidewalk for about ten minutes before he decided to let Sansa know he was downstairs waiting. The Uber he had ordered sat waiting in his sedan, letting his meter run. Not seeing her for the past two nights had been torture for him. Having had all he could stand, he had taken himself in hand just an hour earlier after work to relieve some stress. As he had stroked himself, his mind had been possessed by the memory of Sansa's pretty mouth wrapped around his cock. The release was almost instant, but unfortunately hadn't helped with the stress of performing well on their first official date. The whole idea of this asinine gala thing had him flustered. He had complained about it to Tormund, claiming to not like crowds of people or being in front of crowds. Tormund had countered his excuse, bringing up all their nights spent in bars, and playing in crowded taverns. During the later half of the week, Sandor had once again considered seriously calling the whole thing off and finding some excuse to end things. _No,_ he had thought, remembering his promise, _I can't do that to her. This isn't Audrina, or Rebecca, or Vickie, or fucking Daisy...this is Sansa Stark, and she deserves someone who will fucking try._ And try he had. Sandor had gone to the barber shop and had his beard neatly trimmed. Meticulously, he had combed his hair until he was satisfied with how it fell. He had cleaned his boots, put on a pair of nice blue jeans and a dark grey long sleeve pullover. He caught his reflection in the glass window of the apartment lobby. Turning his head so he couldn't see the scarred side, he thought _I don't look so bad, I guess._ Sandor put out the cigarette he had been smoking in the ashtray on top of the trashcan. He took out his phone and texted Sansa that he was here. Another five minutes passed before Sansa finally emerged through the front door. All of Sandor's doubts and insecurities faded away for the moment when he saw the way she smiled at him. It was a shy, but sweet smile. The dress she had picked out was _fucking phenomenal._ It showed off her long, perfectly shaped legs, and her breasts strained gently against the low neckline. Her alluring eyes looked him up and down as she approached. Sandor help up a finger and spun it around, signaling her to twirl. With a wider smile, she stopped and slowly turned in a circle.

All Sandor could do was stare stupidly. "You look so _beautiful."_ He held out his large hand for her. Blushing at his compliment, Sansa laid her dainty hand in his.

"Thank you, Sandor. You look rather handsome yourself."

Before leading her to the car, Sandor laid one hand on her hip and brought his other to rest on the back of her neck. "You're beautiful."

Sansa laughed and bit her lip. "You already said that..."

"Well, you make a man forget things." Shutting out the rest of the world momentarily, Sandor laid his lips on Sansa's for a heated and heartfelt kiss.

When the driver pulled up in front of their destination, Sansa turned to Sandor, thrilled. "You're taking me to _Luwin's?!"_

"Nope, just the dumpsters out back to see whatever's been thrown away." Sansa narrowed her eyes and smirked as he laughed. " _Of course_ we're going to Luwin's. It's your favorite, isn't it?" He corrected with a wink.

Sansa slipped her arm in his as they walked up the wooden walkway to the front door. "But how did you..." Het voice trailed off. "You must have spoken to Margaery." Sandor smiled at her realization. Well known for their steaks and seafood, Luwin's was one of the priciest and oldest restaurants in King's Landing. It sat at the bottom of the hill that the ancient Red Keep sat on, overlooking Blackwater Bay. Sandor had made reservations for 7:30, which they were right on time for. Wide eyed, the hostess eyed Sandor suspiciously, paying close attention to his face. As they walked to their table, the stares continued. Gods, people are so rude, Sansa thought, as she caught person after person turning their heads at Sandor as they walked by. They were seated on the patio, which overlooked the rippling water. The sun setting off to the west bathed the evening with a golden red light. True to what Margaery had said, Sansa ordered a glass of apple wine. Sandor chose Kettleblack Stout. Kettleblack Co. was a small brewery in King's Landing. The dark beer from there was amongst his favorites.

"What's good here?" Sandor asked as he scanned the menu. "I've never been here."

 _"Everything."_ Sansa replied, as she refreshed her memory with the menu as well. The last time she bad been here was with Ramsay on their one year anniversary. When they dated, he had an irritating habit of ordering Sansa's food for her. That evening had been no different. After dinner, the night had not gone well.

"Well that's good to know." Sandor grunted.

"Father usually gets the prime rib whenever he comes. He says it's the best in the city."

Nodding, and settling his mind on the 16 oz. prime rib with a loaded baked potato, Sandor closed the menu and set it down. "That's what I've heard."

Sansa ordered the petite filet with steamed vegetables. Teasingly, she questioned Sandor's steak preference. _"Rare?_ You and my father both will surely perish form food poisoning one day."

Rolling his eyes, Sandor chuckled and drank from his glass of beer. "I'll survive somehow, I always have."

Sandor was pleasantly content with how well the date was going. Sansa told him about parts of her childhood, her years in college, and her reasons for becoming a teacher. Sandor tried his best to match her happy childhood stories with the cherished few memories he had from his. Somewhere between their salads and end of the main course, Sandor had made up his mind to suck it up and bring up the dreaded gala. "So you and Margaery went and got your dresses for that thing?" He inquired as Sansa dabbed her mouth with her napkin.

"Yes!" She exclaimed enthusiastically. She was on her second glass of apple wine and Sandor could tell she was getting a slight buzz. He hoped she wouldn't order a third glass. "We also got shoes, jewelry, and clutches to go with them." Sansa had to explain to Sandor what a _clutch_ was.

 _"Ooooh!"_ Sandor mocked in a girlish voice with a sly smile on his face. Sansa scoffed at his mockery and they both shared a hearty laugh.

"So you've got the dress, the shoes, the jewelry, your bloody tiny handbag with no strap..." Sansa had nodded her head at each item he listed and giggled at his echo of her explanation of what a clutch was. "But no date..."

Hearing his words sent Sansa's stomach flipping. She sat, frozen in place. Finally, she said quietly, "No...no date, I'm afraid."

"Hmmph." Grunted Sandor. He picked up his beer. As he brought it to his lips, he said, "Whatever will you _do?"_

Feeling rather sheepish, Sansa shrugged. "I don't know."

Sandor set his glass down and took her hand and squeezed it. Taking a deep breath, he let the question flow from his lips. "Would you like for me to go with you?" Sansa's heart leapt. "I know I'm not much for people to look at, bu-"

A bit louder than she had intended, Sansa cut him off. "Yes!" She cried, happily. A hand flew to her mouth when she realized people had turned their heads.

Shaking his head, Sandor snickered. "Gods, Sansa...people are going to think I just proposed to you or something."

A genuinely happy smile appeared on Sansa's lips. "I'm sorry, Sandor, it's just that...I was so worried about how to bring that up. I've wanted you to be my date ever since we first hung out in my apartment that night."

"Yes, well...I'm not sure how I'll _do_ at that sort of thing. I'm not the most social being in the world."

"You won't have to _do_ anything." Sansa reassured him. "Just show up, have fun, and that's it. Margaery has invited Tormund to come." With an impish look in her eyes, Sansa leaned forward and added, "But you'll have to rent a tuxedo."

Her statement elicited a massive eye roll from Sandor. _Fuck, I had forgotten about the damn tuxedo._ "Well, you'll have to help me with that."

Sansa squeezed his hand that she was still holding. "I would _love_ to."

Feeling as though she was lighter than air, she strolled on Sandor's arm down the boardwalk that connected Luwin's to other businesses, bars, and restaurants. After their lemon cakes for desert, Sandor had paid for their meals and suggested they take a walk. "I'm not kidding, Sansa, I need you to come with me to choose a damn tuxedo."

Sansa laughed and leaned her head against his bicep. "How about next Tuesday? We can go to the place that my dad gets his formal wear from."

"Whatever works."

On the ride back to Sandor's apartment, Sansa found herself unable to keep her hands off of him. She wasn't sure if it was the effects of the sweet apple wine, or her own lustful urges. As she leaned in to kiss his neck, her hand found its way to his knee. Stealing a quick glance at the driver to make sure he wasn't watching, Sansa slowly slid her hand higher until her hand grazed his groin. The car was only lit for seconds at a time by the occasional street lamp. Gently, she squeezed the large bulge. Sandor roughly pressed his hand to hers and massaged it over the area where his cock was starting to swell. A warm feeling seized Sansa's body as he worked her hand back and forth across the fabric. Not giving a damn about the driver, Sandor groaned loudly, drawing giggles from Sansa's mouth. When they arrived at his apartment, he hastily paid the driver and slammed the door. His key skidded off the metal of his doorknob again and again as he attempted to unlock it with his hands, shaky with anticipation. It finally opened and they stepped inside. As soon as the door was closed and locked, he pushed Sansa up against it and laid claim to her mouth. Their tongues met and danced as their hands reached for each other's bodies. Sandor lifted one of Sansa's legs and hooked it over his hip. He slid his hand up the silky expanse of her thigh until it reached the warmth between her legs. When be brushed his fingers against the lacy material of her thong, he found she was already saturated from arousal. He lifted her other leg and she wrapped them around his body. Their mouths never missed a beat as he carried her into his bedroom. Sandor had laundered his sheets earlier in the week and had made his bed before picking up Sansa for their date. Sansa squealed with delight as he gently threw her onto his bed. He kicked off his boots before crawling on top of her. Sansa followed suit with her heels. Slowly, Sandor slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders. Shrugging the material away, Sansa revealed a lacy black strapless bra. The round tops of her breast pushed against the garment, begging to be freed. Sandor pulled the dress down the rest of the way. Her lacy black thong matched the bra. Without hesitation, Sansa reached for the buckle on Sandor's belt. They fell back to the bed together and kissed with uncontrollable fervor. Once his belt was undone, Sandor unburdened himself of his pants. Sansa began pulling at his shirt.

"Get rid of this..." She breathed frantically against his neck.

Sandor couldn't help but laugh at her urgency. "I'm _trying!"_ He pulled the shirt over his head and tugged his underwear down as well.

Finally rid of all his clothes, Sandor busied himself with taking Sansa's undergarments off. Sansa raised herself up slightly so he could unclasp her bra. He tossed it aside and took in the marvelous view of her ample chest. Her nipples immediately tensed and drew into perfect, pink peaks when the cool air hit them. Leaning over, Sandor took one in his mouth and sucked while he tweaked the other with his fingers. Gently, he bit down, causing Sansa to writhe beneath him. He raised himself up again and hooked his fingers in her lace thong, savoring the image as he pulled down slowly. Her body was exquisite, covered with the most delicate soft skin that seemed to glow as if she were lit from within. Suddenly remembering that he had to breathe to stay alive, Sandor sucked in a huge gulp of air. He leaned down and trailed kisses down her neck to her stomach. When his lips brushed against her scar, a wave of emotion seared through Sansa's body. He kissed it as if he were trying to heal her, trying to erase the painful memory of her ordeal. Sandor finally continued his kissed down to the point where her legs met, sending tingles and shivers vibrating through Sansa's body. Starting at her knees, he glided his hands up the smooth skin of her thighs until they reached her hips. Roughly, he pulled them towards his face and quickly allowed his tongue to find its way to her glistening slit. Sansa cried out as his tongue pressed up against her clit. With his finger, he spread her lips apart to gain better access. Pausing, he looked down to examine her. Her woman's area was sheer perfection; made of warm, pink folds that were soaked with her sweet juices. The skin of her lips felt like the softest velvet as he lightly eased his fingers over the area. He dipped a finger inside her hot, tight cunt, causing Sansa to squirm with pleasure. As Sandor worked his long finger in and out, he could feel her incredible tightness. The only thing he could think of was how good it would feel to sheath himself inside her. His tongue worked its way around the sensitive area of her clit, licking and sucking. Suddenly, Sansa couldn't take it any longer. She had to have him inside of her. She had to feel what a real man felt like. Sandor could feel her pulling at him, urging him to rise from his position between her legs. Reluctantly, he lifted his face and wiped it, and brought his body up to meet hers. Sansa ran her fingers through his hair and stopped when she reached the back of his head, locking her eyes with his.

"I want you..." she whispered, " _...inside..."_

Heart pounding, Sandor searched her face, which was flushed from their foreplay. "Are you sure?" Even though Sansa had made clear that she wanted to take things slow, Sandor found himself thinking, _please be sure...please say yes_. Instead, he was surprised when he heard himself say, "What about taking things slow?"

Sansa bit her lip and looked away. When she found his eyes again, he was looking at her with such fiery intensity, she thought for sure she would burst into flames. She had never been more sure of anything in her life. Slowly, she turned her head back to Sandor and met his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure...make love to me..."

 _Love,_ Sandor thought. _Make love to me..._ He replayed the words over and over in his head as he firmly pressed his lips to hers. He knew that Sansa hadn't meant it in the context that he had interpreted it, but it still ignited his already intense feelings even more. That word had not been uttered by him since his time with Audrina. Even then, it took months, almost a year into their relationship before he had said it back. Sandor knew he had been steadily slipping closer and closer to the precipice, and he realized he was about to fall. The kiss remained gentle, soft and slow as he touched her face. Sandor swallowed the groan of pleasure that slipped from her mouth. _It's time._

Readying himself for what was to come, Sandor leaned back on his heels and stroked his cock. "Are you ready for me?"

Sansa nodded. Seeing his enormous erection, hungry for her body made her marginally nervous. She allowed herself to wonder if she could handle it all. "Be gentle." She pleaded.

"Of course." Sandor leaned down and kissed her. Sansa could taste herself on his lips. It was so naughty and thrilling to kiss him just minutes after he had lapped hungrily at her cunt. Sandor reached down and grasped his cock. He placed the head at her opening, which was slick with anticipation. He could not believe he was finally getting to do this with Sansa, the woman of his dreams. Before meeting her, he hadn't even realized that a woman of her nature would be what he so desperately needed. He slowly slid the tip up and down along her slit, teasing it. "Ready?" He asked.

"Yes." The intense feeling of Sandor's cock pressing and sliding against her lips almost caused her to come undone right then. Eager for the moment, Sansa's hips lifted slightly to keep the contact with him. She could not disguise the hunger that was flashing in her eyes. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he massaged the fat head of his shaft against her swollen clit in smooth, slow circles.

Sandor slowly eased the tip in. He knew he was going to love this. Keeping his eyes on Sansa, he pushed in a little further. He could feel her walls stretching as he started to fill her. Sansa squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth open in a perfect circle. "Just relax and breathe." Sandor coached. As he felt her body relax, he placed a hand on either side of her body. Sansa reached up and put a hand on the scarred side of his face. Their eyes met. An unspoken feeling they had not yet recognized passed between them as they gazed at each other. Emotions high, Sandor kept sliding his throbbing hardness in. She was tight. Tighter than he'd ever had before. So tight Sandor wasn't entirely sure he was going to fit. But her walls were slippery with her juices and he slid the rest of his cock in easily. Sansa gasped at the feeling. She could feel every inch inside of her, filling her up, stretching her in the most amazing way. "Are you ok?" Sandor asked. Desperately, Sansa nodded, pleading for him in her mind to keep going.

Sandor slowly started to rock his hips to and away from her, pumping his length in and out. Sansa clung to him, her fingernails digging into his arms. Sandor began to quicken his pace, but remained gentle. More than once in his life, he had been overly selfish in bed with a woman he had not truly cared for, being far too rough, or not wanting to put forth the effort to finish her. But this time was different. Attention had to be paid if Sansa was to enjoy their first time. Yearning for his body to be closer to hers, Sandor lifted her torso towards his and sat his body back on his heels. Sansa's legs stretched out behind him as he held her body close to his. Sandor put his hand under her bottom and guided her hips up and down. Sansa let her head fall back in ecstasy. The feeling of this man who was so seductive and alluring, inside her, stretching her to the limit, was almost more than she could handle. The burning, pleasurable feeling was spreading once more. She gyrated her hips on his cock, tingling everywhere that Sandor touched inside of her. She quickened her movements and started to feel that delicious, throbbing sensation that was stemming from where he was inside and beginning to radiate throughout the rest of her body. "Oh Sandor!" Sansa gasped as she clutched his broad, powerful shoulders. She wanted more of it. She had to make it last. She wildly thrust her hips at him, creating friction where they met. Sandor felt the walls of her cunt throb and contract around him. He stifled her orgasmic scream with his lips. Her clenching walls and the sounds of her moans were bringing him to his own peak. Sansa's body was still shaking with her release as he felt his own orgasm about to rip through his body. "Where-" he groaned, about to cum, "Do you want me to pull out?"

"No!" Sansa cried. "I want to feel you."

Hearing those words coming from Sansa's sweet mouth was enough to push Sandor over the edge. He strained his hips against hers and he gasped as he reached his peak. Sansa felt his cock pulsating and felt his warmth spurt inside of her. The feeling of her walls still clenching around his throbbing cock was enough to keep her own orgasm simmering through her core. Once her body calmed, a sigh tore from her lips and she fell on to his chest. Sandor wrapped his arms around her and kissed her skin everywhere his lips could reach. He twisted his body to lean back on the bed, Sansa's weight on top of him. They laid together, still coupled, catching their breath.

Sansa traced a finger along Sandor's collar bone. "So that's what sex is _supposed_ to feel like." Of course she had experienced orgasms during sex before, but never had she had one so intense. Sandor had so thoroughly readied her body for what was to come, and helped her finish. Ramsay's idea of foreplay had been spitting into his hand, rubbing it on his cock, and barreling into her. No tender touches, no arousing caresses, not caring if she finished or not. She closed her eyes. "How am I ever going to get enough?"

Sandor laughed, "Well...I'm yours, Sansa...as long as you want me."

Sansa looked up into his eyes. _"Forever..."_ She whispered. Sandor smiled. He never in this life or the next thought that he would actually like hearing those words from a woman. Sansa pushed herself up on his chest and gently rose, releasing Sandor's softening penis from her slit. She could feel Sandor's sticky cum oozing and trickling down her leg as she walked to the bathroom to clean herself down there. When Sansa returned to the bed, Sandor welcomed her into his arms. As they laid together, Sandor stroked the skin of her back, slightly damp with sweat from their fierce laboring. When her body shivered slightly from the unheated air in the room, he pulled the covers tightly around them. In no time, they both slipped off into a deep, satisfied sleep.

* * *

**I think I need a cigarette after that...**


	10. Chapter Ten

Sansa's phone broke the silence in Sandor's bedroom early the next morning. Blinking open her heavy eyelids, she squinted at her phone. The realization of why her mother was calling hit her. " _Shit..."_ She whispered. Earlier in the week Sansa had made brunch plans with her mother to help her solidify a few more decisions regarding the Children's Benefit Gala. It was 9:15 and they were supposed to meet at 10:30 at Chantilly's.

"What is it?" Sandor mumbled against her back.

"It's my mother." Sansa swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. "Hello?"

Rolling over onto his back, Sandor listened to Sansa as she answered her mother's questions, wondering what they were.

"Yes, mother...no, no I'm not there right now. _No,_ mother... _MOM!_ Ugh...I will _tell_ you when I see you." As she talked, Sansa paced back in forth in front of the window, her feminine figure silhouetted against the light streaming in. After hanging up, she tossed her phone on the bed and walked to the other side where Sandor lay and leaned her upper body down to him. "I've got to go...I'm supposed to meet my mother for brunch at 10:30." Sandor hugged her close to him, rubbing his hands along her back.

"Last night was..." He began, struggling to put his emotions into words, "... _the_ most...incredible night. Probably of my whole life." He felt Sansa smile against his chest as he stroked her hair.

Sansa inhaled his masculinity, letting it fill her nostrils. She filed the scent away in her mind, vowing to always keep it amongst her most treasured. "You made me feel more special and more wonderful than any man ever has before." She leaned up to look at him. "Last night was amazing."

"I wish you didn't have to leave." Sandor complained.

Sansa's lips tugged into a half frown. "Me either. But I promised mother I would help her with some stuff for the gala." Her frown turned upwards into a grin. "At least now I can tell her I have a date." She said over her shoulder as she walked into the bathroom.

Sandor sank his head into his pillow and closed his eyes. When he heard Sansa's text message alert, he opened one eye and glanced at Sansa's phone. He had never been one to spy, but his curiosity got the best of him. Turning the phone screen towards him, he read the message.

_"Forgot to tell you dear, we are having a dinner at our house tomorrow night. Why don't you bring this new beau of yours? See you in a bit."_

The message was from her mom. Frowning, Sandor reached for his own phone to Google the word 'beau.' _"A boyfriend or male admirer."_ Clearly, Sansa had told her mom about them. And now she wanted to meet him.

Sansa emerged from the bathroom, wearing her dress from the night before. Immediately, Sandor protested. " _No._ No no...you're _not_ walking down the streets of King's Landing this early in the morning dressed like that."

Giving him a curious look, Sansa replied, "Well, what do you suggest?"

Sandor threw back the covers and after slapping Sansa firmly on the ass, he growled, "I'll drive you." He disappeared into the bathroom to change.

They entered a parking garage next to his building through a side door in the foyer area of his apartment complex. "Which one do you drive?" Sansa wondered out loud as she eyed the parked cars, trying to figure out which one was his.

"Whichever one I want." Replied Sandor with a grin.

Trying to figure out what he meant, she followed him silently.

"Don't get all excited, I've only got two to choose from." He came to a stop in front of a classic model car and a black Harley Davidson motorcycle.

_"You have a motorcycle."_

Laughing at her obvious comment, Sandor simply said, "Well, yea."

_"And_ this one is yours too?" Asked Sansa as she ran her fingers across the sleek black hood.

"1969 Ford Mustang." Sandor said proudly. His face noticeably fell a little as he continued. "It was my dad's. I restored it while I was in high school. Kind of a little side project to _try_ to stay out of trouble." As he opened the passenger door for Sansa, he added, "I'd like to think he would be proud of me."

Sansa lowered herself into the car. The inside, like the outside was black. The leather seats felt slick and cool on her bare legs. "You did _all_ this?"

Sandor slid behind the wheel of the Mustang and put the key in the ignition. "No, not the whole thing. Beric and his uncle helped a lot. His uncle knows all about restoring classic cars." When he turned the key, the Mustang motor roared to life, echoing loudly through the parking garage. Before making an attempt to put the car in drive, Sandor reached over and put a hand on Sansa's knee. He leaned over and took her lightly by the side of her neck and growled in her ear, "If you didn't have that damn brunch date with your mom, I'd get you back out of this car and bend you over the hood..." With his other hand, Sandor brushed her hair aside and nibbled at her earlobe, causing Sansa's pulse to quicken. Suddenly, he stopped and leaned back to rest against his own seat. _"But.._.we can't." He teased.

Sansa turned her head and looked up at him through her eyelashes. "Not right now, anyway..."

A rumbling groan came from Sandor's throat as he pulled the gearshift into drive and sped out onto the street. Sansa found herself wishing that he had driven a little slower, because they reached her apartment in no time. He put the car in park and let it idle in front of the building, the engine still rumbling.

"By the way, my mom texted me before we left. She wants me to come over for dinner tomorrow night."

Already knowing what she was going to ask, Sandor gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"She would like to have you over as well." Nervously, she looked down and picked at one of her nails. "If you want to, that is."

Heaving a sigh, Sandor loosened his grip on the wheel, but rubbed his hand across the hard material. He finally looked at her through his aviator sunglasses. "You sure?"

"Of course."

"Are you _sure_ you're ready for your family to meet me?" As Sandor said the word me, he gestured to his scarred face.

Sansa furrowed her brows at him. "Yes." She said firmly.

Sandor sighed again. "If you say so."

Leaning in for a kiss, Sansa whispered, "I _do_ say so." Appreciating her tenacity, Sandor knew he couldn't say no. He wound his fingers into her hair and let them slide through the ends.

"Ok. Whatever you say." Throwing his head back to the headrest, he mumbled, "You're turning me into a _nance."_

With a sly smile, Sansa snatched his head towards hers. As their lips met, she said between kisses, "Are...you, _whipped?"_

Breaking contact with her lips, Sandor roared a laugh. "Whipped is not a good way to describe your new man."

Having been joking about the term, Sansa shared his laugh. _"Smitten,_ then?"

"Enamored." Sandor corrected.

A giggle snuck from Sansa's lips. "Call me later?" She asked before stealing one last kiss.

"You bet."

There was no time to shower, so Sansa quickly washed her face, applied fresh makeup and pulled her hair into a high ponytail. After dressing in leggings and a comfortable sweater, Sansa grabbed her keys and sunglasses and headed out the door.

Chantilly's On The Bay was usually crowded on Saturdays around brunch time. It was a popular destination for the upper class women of King's Landing. This Saturday morning was no different. Sansa found her mother already seated at a table on the patio overlooking the bay. "Sansa, darling." Catelyn said sweetly as she rose and kissed her daughter's cheek.

"Hello, mother." Sansa said as she lowered herself into a chair.

"You look well, I was worried the news about Ramsay would get you worked up."

For a moment, Sansa considered telling her mother about Sandor urging her to carry a gun. She decided against it, as her mother was weary around guns and things of that sort. She simply shook her head. "I've been keeping my mind busy with other things." It wasn't a lie, for all that had been on her mind lately was Sandor and all the naughty things she wanted to do with his body.

"Well that's good." Catelyn reached into her bag and took out a thick binder filled with papers and magazine clippings with ideas of how she envisioned this year's gala. She opened the binder between them.

"You know you could consolidate all this into an ipad. It would be much simpler."

Catelyn replaced her sunglasses with her reading glasses to get a better view of the pictures she had been collecting. "I like it this way better, darling."

For the next hour, they poured over papers, lists, and pictures and made the final decisions on the flower arrangements, auction items, and decorations. Famished, Sansa consumed two Belgian waffles with strawberries and two mimosas. Catelyn opted for an spinach and mushroom egg white omelette with coffee. Once all decisions were made, Catelyn closed her binder and slid it back into her bag. She leaned her elbows on the table and asked the question Sansa had been expecting all morning.

"So...tell me about this new suitor."

Finishing her drink, Sansa sighed and told the story of how she and Sandor had met, save for the part where she passed out and had to be carried to the car. "Rickon would like him, he plays the guitar." Her younger brother was a junior in high school and had been taking guitar lessons for a few years now.

"And what does he do for a living?"

Uncertainty of the outcome of their talk tugged Sansa's mouth down. "I'm just going to go ahead and tell you...he's not like the other men I have dated. He doesn't sit in an office with a suit and tie. Nothing at all like anyone I have ever been with."

"Ooh...is he an _athlete?"_

Already getting a bit annoyed, Sansa scoffed at her mother. Catelyn meant well, but she had always wanted Sansa to marry wealthy so she would be well taken care of. A flighty notion that would have to be abandoned, should she decide to stay with Sandor. _"No._ He's...he's a mechanic."

Looking a bit flabbergasted, Catelyn gaped at her daughter. "A... _mechanic?"_

"A diesel mechanic." Sansa corrected.

"Is that _better?"_

Exasperated, Sansa rolled her eyes. "He works on big trucks, mostly. Apparently it's quite a lucrative business." _Maybe that will shut her up,_ Sansa thought. Unfortunately, it didn't.

"Oh Sansa, that is _definitely_ different from what you're used to. Is that really the sort of lifest-"

Knowing she had another card to play, Sansa cut her mother off. "You have no problem with who Arya is dating. He's nothing like the type of men you have always envisioned us with." Her younger sister had been seeing a man named Gendry for quite some time. Three years at least. He was employed by the city and was a blacksmith by trade and kept the horses shod that pulled the tourist carriages downtown. For a side hobby, Gendry liked to recreate medieval swords and war hammers. He and Arya got along quite well.

Half defeated, Catelyn sat back in her chair. "Does he make you happy, at least?"

"Very much so."

Catelyn sighed heavily and put her hand on her daughter's arm. "I just want the best for you, dear. After what you've been through-"

Cutting her mother off once again, Sansa said sharply, "After what I've _been though_ , you as well as anyone should know that anyone who is kind to me and makes me happy should have to be the only qualifications to earn my love!" Sansa cried as she felt tears brimming in her eyes. "He is kind, and protective, and even though I have only known him a very short period of time, he has made me happier than _anyone else!"_ For emphasis on her last words, Sansa banged her hand on the tabletop. She sat back in her chair and huffed a breath. Catelyn reached for her daughter's hand.

"Sansa...come now, let's not throw a tantrum. You know I love you and I will be happy with _anyone_ who makes _you_ happy. I'm not concerned about this man not being able to support you. You make your own money and are a very independent woman who can make it on her own. I'm just worried about..."

_"What?_ Worried about what others will think?" Angrily, she mimicked what a judgmental person might say about her and Sandor. _"Oh look, there goes that Stark girl and the scrub mechanic she's dating."_

Shaking her head, Catelyn harshly intervened, "Well, I'm not sure I know exactly what a _scrub_ is, but Sansa, you _must_ believe me when I say that I will support you with whatever decision you make." She straightened her sunglasses and continued, "Now, enough of this ridiculous talk. I am sorry for how I reacted at first, it was just a bit of a shock, give me a break."

Knowing her mother was right, Sansa sighed. She had blindsided her with the news about Sandor and wasn't giving her a chance to come to terms with it in her own way. "There's something else I must tell you about Sandor." Taking a deep breath, Sansa said, "He doesn't... _look_ like the usual men I have dated either."

Catelyn laughed at the notion. "Oh Gods, Sansa...he doesn't have obscure facial piercings or some sort of deformity, does he?" She continued laughing, lightheartedly, but stopped immediately when she saw Sansa's face fall. "Oh dear...Sansa, piercings are where I draw the line."

Sansa gulped. "No, mother...no piercings. He's got...well he...has long hair."

"Oh. Well I guess that's not so bad."

_"And..._ he has significant...scars on his face."

Hesitantly, Catelyn echoed, "Scars. What do you mean? What are they from?"

Telling Margaery the story of Sandor's scars was one thing. But she didn't know if Sandor wanting her parents know his dark story. "I imagine that he would like to tell you the story himself. Maybe. I don't know. Just don't ask about it. Tell father not to ask either."

Raising her eyebrows, Catelyn shook her head. "Well this is just a lot of information to take in. Do you at least have a picture of him?"

Knowing Sandor didn't have a Facebook, Sansa took out her phone and found the page on the app for _Midnight Envy._ She scrolled until she found a picture of Sandor during a performance. He was shirtless in the picture, but that was one of the reasons Sansa chose that one to show her. She scooted her chair closer to her mother and leaned the screen towards her.

Catelyn gasped at the picture. The light in the picture showed off Sandor's bulging, rippling muscles. "Oh now, wait a minute dear." She pulled her sunglasses off and slipped her reading glasses on to get a better look. "Good Gods...I haven't seen a body like that in years." She nudged Sansa with her elbow. "I'm afraid your father's gone all soft around the edges."

_"Gross."_ Sansa rolled her eyes and scrolled to find a better picture of his face. She found one of Sandor and Tormund, standing together against a brick wall. Sandor wore his usual white t-shirt and ripped blue jeans. Sansa laughed in spite of herself at Tormund. Sweaty from a performance, his already wild red hair stuck out in all directions. His wide eyes and toothy grin made him look comical. Sandor had his normal, half stoic, half scowl expression on his face. Catelyn nodded at the picture. "He's actually quite handsome, Sansa. In a _'tall, dark stranger'_ kind of way." Hearing her mother's approval made Sansa relax a little. "And now who is this fellow here?" She asked, pointing to Tormund.

Sansa laughed. "That's actually the man that Margaery has just started seeing. We all met the same night." She explained.

Catelyn put her arm around her daughter and affectionately rubbed her arm. "Well I will be looking forward to seeing how well they clean up for the gala."

Sansa and her mother spent the rest of the afternoon visiting the florist, the caterer, and other businesses that they would be using for the event. Margaery and her grandmother, Olenna Tyrell met up with them at the caterer so that Olenna could cast her vote on the food selection. The tedious old woman voiced her opinion on everything, whether it was asked for or not. Sansa had grown weary of the errands by about 6:00 and was relieved when Margaery suggested that they go home and order a pizza. She was also a bit relieved when Sandor called to say that he, Beric and Thoros were getting together at Tormund's townhouse to play poker. Sansa would have loved to have seen Sandor again, but she didn't want to make herself too available or clingy towards the beginning of their relationship. Margaery and Sansa settled in at Sansa's apartment for a night of pizza, movies, and some much needed girl time. Around midnight, Margaery received a Snapchat from Tormund. It was of him and Sandor. Both men looked a little more than drunk, and had cigars clenched between their teeth. Margaery rolled her eyes and snickered at the picture. _"Men..."_

Sunday morning, Sandor awoke in Tormund's guest bedroom with a pounding headache and a dry mouth. The night before, between shots of vodka and rounds of poker, he had expressed his concerns about meeting Sansa's family to Beric, saying he wasn't sure if he was ready. Beric and the others had been vastly unhelpful, saying, _"Well, you better get ready!"_ It wasn't that Sandor didn't feel ready to meet Sansa's family, he felt inadequate to meet her family. There was no doubt in his mind that he would not live up to the expectations that they had for her. Sansa had no doubt been raised with the assumption that she marry rich and continue her mother's philanthropy work, and he wasn't sure if that was something he would be suited for. Feeling inadequate was not a strange feeling for Sandor. It was something he had dealt with ever since he had been burned by his brother as a child. The days after he had returned to school once his face was healed was a memory that would haunt him forever. His friends alienated and ridiculed him. Even his teacher had been reluctant to look at his face. The scornful exterior that he had adopted for himself began then. From that day on, he shut out anyone who showed kindness to him, fearing they were only doing it to make him the butt of some cruel joke. He constantly stayed in trouble and cut class so much he almost didn't graduate. Not that he would have gone to the graduation ceremony, because he didn't. Rights of passage other teens went through were of no interest to him. Proms and homecomings came and went without a second thought about attending. What lovely girl would want to walk into a school dance with an ugly brute on her arm? Girls with little to no self respect were what he had to be content with. Girls like him, who just wanted nothing more than a quick lay with no strings attached were the ones he had laid with during those times. The girls he had fucked spread rumors about his impressive size, and he was never without a way to temper the sting of his sexual urges. When he met Audrina, he had thought it was a miracle that she had seen past his scars to the man who he truly was deep down inside. In her own twisted way, she had healed the parts of him that the doctors and therapists couldn't. When she left him, he never imagined he would ever find another woman who could also look past his flawed appearance and gruff nature. For Sansa to give him a second glance, and then give herself to him in the most intimate way, had to be some savage joke by the Gods, and he was still weary about making any hasty decisions when it came to them as a couple. But Sansa wanted him to come meet her family. _Who am I to say no?_

He called Sansa when he got back to his apartment around 3:00. "So are we still going to your parent's house for dinner tonight?"

"If you would like to." Sansa replied.

Sandor raked a hand through his hair and exhaled smoke from the cigarette he was smoking on his patio. "Well _you're_ the one who wants me to go." He could sense Sansa freeze on the other end.

"Do you not want to go?" She finally said quietly. She wanted him to _want_ to go.

Before answering, Sandor weighed the pros and cons of the situation. If he went, it would make her happy. He would sit at her family's table and answer their polite questions, but he would feel like they were only being courteous to him to satisfy Sansa. On the other hand, if he did not go, it would surely cause tension between Sansa and himself, and deep down, that was not something he wanted right now. "Yes, I want to go."

They made plans for Sandor to pick her up at 6:00. When the time came for him to leave for Sansa's apartment, he almost straddled his Harley, but decided his car would be a better choice. Sansa met him at the curb wearing a casual green maxi t-shirt dress. Sandor was glad he had put on his navy button up shirt and nice jeans, instead of the white t-shirt he had almost put on. "You look very nice." He complimented as she slid into the front seat.

"Thank you, so do you."

Sandor reached for her to pull her in for a kiss. His core melted as their tongues met, having missed the feeling of her lips brushing up against his. When they reached her parent's house, Sandor's insecurities bubbled to the surface. Her family's home was big and grand, as were the others around it. Upon seeing the Audi in the driveway, Sansa commented that her brother must also have been invited to eat. As Sansa unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the door handle, Sandor stopped her. "Maybe this isn't a good idea."

Shocked at his confession, Sansa turned to him, open mouthed. "Well it's a little late for that, don't you think?"

"Your family isn't going to like me." Sandor began, fiddling with the keys in his hands. "I'm not like them."

Being careful with her choice of words, Sansa looked at him. "Sandor, my parents have always trusted my judgement. And they will accept you because _I_ accept you. They know what I've been through and wouldn't dare question whether or not you are right for me." She knew the last half of her statement had been a slight fib, because Catelyn _had_ questioned their relationship. But her mother, as she was sure the rest of her family would, had come around.

Sandor heaved a sigh and took her hand. "If you say so." Was all he could manage before stepping out of the car.

Catelyn welcomed Sansa and Sandor in the large foyer. She embraced and kissed her daughter's cheek. "You must be Sandor," She said warmly, clasping his hand in hers. "Welcome to our home."

"Very nice to meet you. Thank you for having me." If Catelyn had been surprised at his appearance, she had hidden it well. When Sansa's father appeared from around the corner, his pace slowed a bit and he couldn't hide the shock on his face when he took in Sandor's presence. But he recovered well and regained his composure as he hugged his daughter.

"Dad, this is my boyfriend, Sandor Clegane." Sansa said, turning to a slightly stunned Sandor.

Taken by surprise at Sansa's introduction of him, his hand was shaking as he held it out for her father. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark."

Ned shook Sandor's outstretched hand, to his credit, ignoring how sweaty it was. "Ned, please." He insisted. Ned's other hand clapped Sandor firmly on the shoulder. "We're very happy that you're here." His eye contact was impeccable, never once letting Sandor's scars affect him after the initial sight.

"Come this way, everyone else is out back." Catelyn said as she held her arm out towards the space between the giant curving staircases that led to the outdoor patio area. After a quick smile, Ned followed his wife, leaving Sansa alone with Sandor in the foyer.

_"Boyfriend,_ huh?" Sandor rasped quietly in her ear with a curious smile on his face. Before leaning back up, he kissed her quickly on the cheek.

Wide eyed, Sansa addressed his question. "Is that ok?" With a coy smile, she added more confidently, "You did say we'd know after Friday..."

Sandor laughed and pulled her close. "You're right." He stepped back, motioning for her to lead the way.

"I am, aren't I?" Sansa said playfully as they joined the rest of her family outside.

Once outside, Sandor met Sansa's older brother Robb, and his exotically good looking wife, Talisa. He also met her younger brother, Rickon, who had a full head of wild blonde curls. From Catelyn, he learned that Bran was away in his sophomore year of college in Old Town, and Arya was swamped with studying for exams as the end of the semester neared. At Catelyn's request, Sansa and Talisa followed her to the kitchen to help finish with the rest of the meal. Sandor was left on the huge stone patio with the Stark men. Robb was sipping on a beer while he tended to steaks on the grill

"So what is it that you do, Sandor?" He inquired.

Hesitantly, he answered. "I'm a diesel mechanic in a shop downtown."

To Sandor's surprise, Robb didn't show the least hint of disapproval in his voice as he continued his questions. "So you're a handy guy to have around I bet. Do you get a chance to do any jobs of that sort outside of your work?"

"Well I rebuilt my dad's old Mustang when I was in high school. A buddy of mine helped me along. I don't have ant outside projects going on right now though."

Ned's eyes got big as he heard Sandor mention _Mustang_. "What year is your Mustang?" He asked eagerly.

"1969."

A low whistle escaped Ned's mouth. "Is it _here?"_ He asked, eyebrows high, pointing to the ground.

A slight smile came to Sandor's face. "Yea it's here."

Ned rose from the bench where he had been sitting. "Well this is something I must see." Sandor felt a little swell of pride in his chest at Ned's delight with his car.

"Oh no you don't, dad. Not without me." Objected Robb, pointing the grilling tongs at him. "You wait until I'm done with these steaks. Then we can all go."

"Classic cars are dad and Robb's thing." Rickon laughed and explained to Sandor.

"What's your thing?" Sandor asked.

"Guitar. I'm only still learning, but I'm getting better." When he said he was getting better, Ned scoffed quietly and rolled his eyes. He smiled and shrugged when Rickon shot him a dirty look.

"What kind do you play?" Sandor asked, hoping he wouldn't say _acoustic._ So far, Sansa's family had been full of surprises. A dad and a brother who liked classic model cars, and another brother who played the guitar.

"A Fender Elite Stratocaster.""

Sandor raised his eyebrow and grunted. "Oh really? Well I play a little bass on my Gibson with the band I'm in." He said with a sideways smile.

Rickon let his mouth hang open before making Sandor promise to teach him a few things before he left that night. During the rest of the evening, Sandor found himself conflicted. He had expected Sansa's family to be judgmental and apprehensive of him. He had entered their home ready to be judged, not ready to be accepted. The exact opposite of what he anticipated had happened. The Starks were warm and friendly, albeit a little too friendly when Robb boldly inquired about his scars. Sansa held her breath as Sandor finished chewing his food before answering.

"I fell into an open fireplace while I was roughhousing with my older brother." In a way, it was only half a lie. He _had_ been struggling against his brother when Gregor had held him to the fire. The only lie was that he hadn't fallen. Uneasily, Sansa blew out the breath she had been holding. While Sansa helped her mother and the maid clean up after dinner, Sandor was drug upstairs by Rickon. As she stacked plates in the dishwasher, Sansa smiled at the sound of what she assumed was Sandor playing her brother's guitar. Rickon hadn't gotten _that_ good, yet. Her father and brother broke up the practice session half an hour later, saying it was getting late. But the Stark men actually wanted Sandor to let them see his car. Sansa and her mother looked through the bay window in the front room as Sandor popped the hood open to show Ned and Robb what was underneath.

Hesitantly, Sansa asked her mother, "Do you think dad likes him?" What her dad thought truly did matter to Sansa, and she knew her mother would be honest.

Catelyn smiled as she watched Sandor give Ned the keys so he could start the engine up. "I think he does. I've been watching him closely tonight and I haven't seen him clenching his jaw, nor has that damn vein in his temple popped out." Sansa laughed at her mother's description of Ned's discomfort. Ned was not known to hide his dislike of people very well, and tension often showed in his face when he was around someone whom he did not care for. "He likes him because you like him, dear. I told him how strongly you felt about him, and he was moved when I told him that he was protective of and kind to you. I'm sure this is helping the situation along as well." Catelyn finished as she gestured to the men clamoring around Sandor's Mustang outside.

Once the men were finished obsessing over the car, they came back inside to say their goodbyes. To Sandor's great shock, Catelyn put her arms around him in a warm hug. "We're so glad to have met you, Sandor. You are welcome here anytime." Stepping away, she added, "Please come back soon." Sandor nodded his head and thanked her again for dinner.

Ned shook Sandor's hand once more. "Thank you for coming. Hope to see you again soon."

Sandor firmly shook his hand. "It was nice meeting you, sir."

_"Ned,_ for Gods' sake, Sandor." Ned corrected.

On the way back into King's Landing, Sandor couldn't help but feel a little disappointed with himself for being reluctant to meet Sansa's family. Instead of the Starks, he had been the one who had been judgmental, assuming they would be stuffy, uptight rich people. Rich, yes. But stuffy and uptight... _hardly._ That was what being around a family was supposed to feel like, warm and supportive of each other. Something Sandor had been unable to experience. By the time they made it back to Sansa's apartment, it was past. 9:00. As Sandor hugged Sansa goodnight, he kissed her forehead. Sansa sensed his tension as she reached her chin up to kiss his lips. His feelings of inadequacy had been replaced with feelings of how undeserving he felt like he was. He didn't know which was worse; not feeling good enough for her, or feeling like he was good enough, but not deserving her. Truthfully, he didn't feel like he deserved such a beautiful woman with a wonderful family, no matter what they had said to make him feel welcome in their lives. Just when he felt like things with Sansa would work out, he was faced with other thoughts that wrecked his emotions.

Sandor struggled with these feelings all through the next two days. His mounting anxiety of the situation made him miserable to be around. Sandor was distracted at work, and snapped at Beric constantly. When Beric angrily suggested that he go see a _fucking shrink,_ that was all Sandor could stand. He threw down his wrench and left the shop. Later at his apartment, when Sandor got out of the shower, he had a text from Sansa. _"Been thinking about you all day. You ready to go get measured for your tux?"_

"Fuck!" Sandor bellowed at the ceiling. _Gods, of all things to have to do this afternoon..._ All he wanted to do was sit on his couch and get drunk. His fingers slammed on the screen as he texted her back. _"It's not been a good day, can we do it some other time?"_

Another text came through. _"When I called and made this appointment, they said it was their only opening for the next two weeks."_

Sandor clenched his jaw and roared a snarling groan. _"Ok, what time do I need to be ready?"_

_"I'll pick you up in ten minutes. We need to be there by 5:00."_

Frustrated with how his day was unfolding, Sandor snatched some clothes on his body and poured some food in Pierre's bowl. He spent the next minutes waiting for Sansa smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk in front of his building. When he saw Sansa's Lexus SUV approaching, he threw it down and scuffed it out. He tried to ignore how Sansa wrinkled her nose at the smell of smoke when he leaned over to peck her on the cheek. He didn't have the patience to hear her dislike of his habit just then.

"Hello, handsome." She said sweetly as she put the car in drive. "Sorry you haven't had a good day."

"It's not a big deal. Just work shit," he lied. "How long will this take? I'm starving."

Stunned at his terseness, Sansa gripped her steering wheel a little tighter. "It shouldn't take but about thirty minutes or so. Would you like to go get something to eat afterwards?"

For fear of saying something that would hurt Sansa's feelings, Sandor just nodded and kept silent the rest of the drive. Minutes later, Sansa circled the block that their destination was on to find a parking spot. As they walked to Whittaker's Formal wear, Sansa had to be content with slipping her hand between Sandor's arm and his body, because he had stuffed his hands into his pockets.

A short, slim man greeted them at the door. His smile faded into a open mouthed stare when he saw Sandor. After blinking several times, he raised his eyebrows and flashed his smile again and said, "Ms. Stark, you are looking _very_ well." He took her outstretched hand and kissed it lightly. "And who do we have here?" The man eyed Sandor through his round black rimmed glasses.

Sansa grinned and turned to Sandor. "Henri, this is my boyfriend, Sandor." Grim faced, Sandor shook Henri's hand and curtly nodded his head at the man. "We need to get him fitted for a tux, although...I was thinking," She paused and looked up eagerly at Sandor, "you might just need to consider buying one, we have _many_ black tie affairs coming up this summer." It wasn't her mentioning him buying a tuxedo that suddenly had Sandor's mouth drying up, it was her using the word _we._ His throat grew tight as he listened to Sansa and Henri discuss colors and jacket materials as they led Sandor to a small raised platform surrounded by mirrors. "Maybe black on black perhaps, that would look very smart on him, don't you think?"

Henri agreed as he went to a desk and retrieved an ipad and a tape measure. "Allow me to help you out of your jacket, sir." Henri reached for Sandor's black leather jacket he was wearing.

"Not _sir,_ just Sandor." Sandor hadn't meant to snap so rudely at Henri, it was just his old habit, rearing its ugly face again.

_"Sandor..."_ Sansa scolded gently, a bit embarrassed at his remark.

Henri waved his had at Sansa, dismissing Sandor's rudeness. "It's quite alright my dear. Well, _just Sandor,_ if you'd hold your arms still at your side, back straight, yes...nice and tall, that's good."

Sandor's body tensed and flinched as he felt Henri nimbly run the tape measure along various parts of his body. Sweat began to bead at his forehead and run down his face. His pulse quickened and he could feel his heart pounding. The ringing in his ears was almost drowning out Sansa's voice as he listened to her excitedly prattle on and on about the events at the gala. Henri gasped and smiled as she described the limos, the food, the decorations and the flowers. Suddenly, Sandor felt as if he couldn't breathe. A tightness appeared in his chest, like an iron fist was trying to squeeze the life out of him. His chest heaved up and down as he looked around for something to grab onto.

"And I just _cannot wait_ to see how everything comes together, the music, the dancing..."

Sandor closed his eyes and tried his best to get his breathing under control. Laughing and urging Sansa to tell him more, Henri wrapped the tape measure around Sandor's neck and pulled it snug. Sandor couldn't handle anymore. In a sudden, swift movement that surprised Henri, Sandor's hands flew to his neck and pulled the plastic strip away and pushed the tailor's hands down. "I'm sorry...I can't do this. _Fuck,_ I can't do any of this." Sansa stared in shock as Sandor stepped clumsily off the platform and grabbed his jacket. He roughly shook Henri's hand. "I'm sorry, Henri, sorry to have wasted your time...but I can't." Never once meeting Sansa's eyes, he walked quickly towards the door, desperate for some fresh air.

Sandor burst through the front doors of the shop and threw his head back, letting the warm evening air touch his face. Seconds later, Sansa came running through the doors after him.

"What the _hell_ was that?!" Her voice was almost a shriek.

Turning to face her with a scowl, Sandor said angrily, "That was _me._ That was who I am. Fuck, Sansa...I'm not cut out for this!"

"Not cut out for what?"

Sandor flailed his hand between them. " _Any_ of this! I can't handle all this tuxedo bullshit and black tie affairs that you are obligated to attend. None of this is who I am! I just can't!"

Angry tears threatened to spill from Sansa's eyes. _"Can't_ or _won't?"_ She spat.

Sandor gave her a dark look. "I don't belong in this world of fancy parties and limousines, and all that other shit that you love. It's...it's too much. It's all too much for me! Your family...they're great people. Salt of the earth, but they truly don't _want_ you with me. Who would want their daughter with me? I'm just some asshole who busts his knuckles on trucks to make a fucking dollar."

"So what?! And I'm just a teacher...one of the least respected jobs out there!" Sansa crossed her arms over her chest and thought of what could have triggered this sudden outburst. "Is this about me calling you my boyfriend?"

Sandor shook his head. "No. No, it's everything. I'm sorry, it's all just too much for me. You deserve a man who _wants_ to do all this shit with you. And a man who will look good on your arm while you're doing it."

Her tears started to fall. "So I don't get any say in this matter? It's not enough for me to just say that _I_ want to be with you? After I told you everything that I've been through, you still don't believe that I could actually want to be with someone like you?"

Sandor looked at her, his eyes laden with emotion. "You've been through a lot." His eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to her face. _"But so have I."_

Her tears unchecked, Sansa continued, "So you're just going to shut me out like everyone else in your life?"

Furious for calling him out like that, Sandor all but shouted, "Don't go making assumptions about what I have and haven't done to the people in my life!" Possessed by his feelings, he let the words flow. "You think you know my life just because I told you about my brother. _Fuck!_ You don't know shit about me! The _real_ me!" Suddenly realizing what he just said, Sandor took a step back and stared at the beautiful woman who was crying in front of him.

Wiping her eyes, Sansa said sadly, "I think I'm getting to know the real you right now."

_It's too late to turn back now, I've fucking done it again..._ Sandor shrugged. "I am who I am. I have never been able to change. Look, Sansa...you don't need a miserable man like me holding you back. You deserve someone who can give you the world. What do I have to offer Sansa Stark?"

Closing her eyes, Sansa let a sob escape her trembling lips. "You offered me kindness and affection. Something I haven't gotten much of in my past relationships." With a pleading look in her eyes, she whispered, _"Please..."_

Sadly, Sandor shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't do this. I'm sorry you met me."

Sansa couldn't believe what she was hearing. All those wonderful things he had said to her, the wonderful things he had done to her. None if that seemed to matter to him anymore. Finally, Sansa blurted out, "Me too." Without another word, Sansa turned and walked quickly to her car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Don't hate me! Life ain't always rainbows and tequila y'all...but it should be. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think, I love hearing your thoughts on the story.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that last chapter was definitely a roller coaster of emotions! So much going on with these two. But y'all know I can't leave y'all hangin for too long with what happened at the end of chapter ten. Thank you sooo much for the reviews and comments :) Happy reading! xoxo

In the days that followed, Sansa found herself having a hard time feeling anything but devastated. Once Sansa got home from Whittaker's, Margaery had come over and held her against her shoulder as she cried and told her about Sandor's sudden change of heart. Sansa just couldn't understand why he had offered her everything and instantly changed his mind.

Sansa wiped her nose with a tissue Margaery had supplied for her. "I mean, he promised me all these wonderful things, gave me fleeting happiness...and then snatched it all away. What kind of man can _do_ that to someone?!"

Margaery sighed and stroked Sansa's hair as she held her. "Apparently one who has suffered immensely and is broken from it. Some men just can't come back from horrible things that happen to them." She shook her head and went on, "I'm so sorry, love. I wish there was something I could do or say to make things better."

"Just hold me." Her body shook with sobs. She couldn't help feeling a bit ridiculous. After all, she hadn't even known the man _that_ long. Margaery assured her she was not being ridiculous. Intense feelings had a way of developing quickly. Even though she wasn't defending Sandor, she had offered the thought that maybe there was a little merit to what he had said. She said that maybe he was just scared about not feeling like he would fit in in Sansa's life. "Apparently you _can't_ teach an old dog new tricks." Sansa whispered against Margaery's shoulder.

"What's that dear?"

Sansa closed her eyes and muttered, "Nothing."

The miserable days crept by. The unpredictable spring weather of the south suddenly turned stormy. It had rained for the past two days. _Very appropriate for my mood,_ Sansa thought glumly as she looked out her classroom window on Thursday afternoon. Her emotions bounced back and forth between sadness and anger. During their time together, Sansa had let herself entertain the thought that her infatuation with Sandor might have been love. Could have been. _Guess I'll never know now_. She had not heard anything at all from Sandor. Before looking at her phone, she would pray that his name and that black heart emoji would be on the screen. Rickon had text her twice, saying how awesome Sandor was, and had asked when he would be back over. She hadn't told her family about their breakup yet. On Friday afternoon, Thoros sought her out to give her the certificate for his yoga sessions that were to be auctioned off at the gala. They met at Tate's on the corner of Fifth street. Seeing how down Sansa was, he insisted that she stay and have a drink with him. Not wanting to pump Thoros for information, Sansa did not mention Sandor or their "breakup." Sandor had never actually acknowledged her as his girlfriend, so she wasn't sure if that would be the correct term to use.

"You know," Thoros began as he sipped his chai tea, "You can ask me about Sandor." He leaned in close. "I won't tell him."

Sansa cracked a small smile at Thoros. He was always so nice to her and it made her a little sad that she wouldn't get to see him anymore. She took a deep breath. "Ok, Thoros. How is he?"

Thoros shook his head. "He's taking it pretty badly. Won't eat, doesn't sleep...stays drunk most of the time unless he's at work, and even then we're not sure he's entirely sober. Beric says he looks like pure shit."

Sansa pressed her mouth into a thin line and swirled her straw in the strawberry smoothie she had ordered. _"He's_ taking it badly? Well that's funny, considering he was the one who wanted to end things." The thought of Sandor wallowing in misery made her a little angry. _He was the one who tucked his tail and ran away. Why was he so miserable?_ _He had wanted out._ "He did it to himself." Sansa finished her thoughts out loud as she sat back against her chair.

Thoros shrugged. "Maybe now he's aware that he fucked up." He offered softly. "Sandor has never been able to handle emotions very well. And when he realized how strong his feelings were for you...I guess he just sort of freaked out. You've got to admit, this did all happen very fast."

Dumbfounded, Sansa stared at Thoros. "Well, he could have at least _told_ _me, i_ nstead of just waiting for everything to culminate and explode!"

"Like I said, Sandor doesn't do well with feelings or expressing them. Very unhealthy if you ask me. We've tried to get him to truly open up and talk about it, but he doesn't confide in us much about the deep shit." Thoros patted Sansa's hand as she looked sadly up at him.

"Is there any hope for us?" Sansa asked quietly.

Wide eyed, Thoros looked away and scratched his blonde beard. "Sansa, I don't know. I haven't known Sandor to have too many changes of heart. Once he's made his mind up about something, he usually sticks to his decision." He finished his drink and looked at Sansa. Thoros didn't want to give her a false sense of hope, but always one to be optimistic, he ended his thoughts with, "You never know. Maybe he'll come around."

After hugging him goodbye, Sansa thanked Thoros for her smoothie and drug herself back to her apartment to shut out the world and let the gloom consume her. She didn't feel the rain on her face, or running through her hair. All she felt was pain and sadness. Every other emotion had been pushed from her being. Her body ached and her head had not stopped pounding. She knew the hurt she felt in her chest would only go away with time, but for now, she would have to deal with it. As she rode the elevator up to her apartment, she got a text from Margaery saying that she and Tormund were going out to eat that night and did she want to come too. Sansa politely declined. She just wanted to be alone.

When Sandor had walked into the shop on Friday morning, he immediately sought Beric out. He had not spoken a word to him since storming out Tuesday afternoon. His shadow fell over Beric, who was stooped down to retrieve a tool from a bottom drawer of his tool chest. Beric stood and turned to face him. Sandor's bloodshot eyes contrasted sharply with the dark circles under them. His beard and hair were messy and uncombed. "You look like shit." Beric said as he looked Sandor square in the eye.

As Sandor stood there, offering his silent apology, Beric understood and clapped Sandor on the shoulder and nodded his head once at him. They worked mostly in silence that day, Beric knowing Sandor probably didn't want to talk about it, and Sandor assuming Beric would call him out once agian for running away scared. In the few days he had been away from Sansa, Sandor had fallen into a routine of staying up late, staring at the muted tv while blaring a _Papa Roach_ album, drinking from a bottle of Jack Daniels, angry tears of regret blurring his vision, but not falling. He hadn't gotten back in his bed, fearing the smell of Sansa on his sheets would be his demise. Instead, what little sleep he got was on the couch. At work, he was a zombie, hearing and seeing what he was working on, but not feeling a thing. He desperately wanted to call her. To go to her and wrap his arms around her delicate body to take away the pain he had surely inflicted. Sansa was the only person who could cure the empty feeling in his heart, but she was angry at him, furious probably, and most likely wanted nothing to do with him. He sighed as he sat in the alley behind the shop on his break, staring at the ground. A lit, but unsmoked cigarette pinched between his fingers. Usually, after he pushed a woman away, he would twist the truth around in his head to make it seem like the woman was at fault. That she had been the reason he ran away and his actions would be justified. There was just no doing that in his current situation. Sansa had done nothing wrong. It was all his fault this time and he knew it. After Beric and Sandor closed the garage for the day, Beric suggested that they go to Halfhand's for a drink. A change of scenery sounded good to Sandor, and he decided drinking whiskey at a bar instead of on his couch wouldn't be a bad idea. They sat in silence, sliding a pack of cigarettes between the two of them. After their second drink, Beric spoke.

"Sandor-"

"Don't fucking say it." Sandor snapped, assuming Beric would accuse him of being scared and running away again. "Don't you tell me this is my fault because I already know it is."

Lighting another cigarette, Beric grunted. "Well that's not what I was going to say, but it's big of you to admit that."

Sandor turned his dark look to Beric. Then went back to his glass of whiskey.

"What I was going to say was...I've known you since we were kids. I've never seen you act _this_ bad after shutting down a woman. You do care for her. Why'd you do it?"

After throwing his drink back and lighting a cigarette, Sandor looked at Beric's good eye. "I did it _because_ I care for her. She doesn't need me in her life. She can have any man she wants."

Beric let a laugh slip out. "Yea and she chose _you._ Didn't you ever stop and think there might be a reason for that?"

"She must be stupid, I guess."

Beric scoffed loudly. "She chose you because she loves you. That's got to be the only reason. Why don't you stop being an asshole and let her choose who she gets to love?"

Letting the sadness consume him, Sandor frowned and looked at the melting ice in the glass clenched in his hand. He released his grip to set the glass in front of the bartender, who filled it up again. He turned Beric's words over and over in his head. Sansa had said something similar to that. _So I don't get any say in this matter?_

"I've got to go take a piss." Beric muttered as he slid down from the barstool.

As Sandor sat there, he continued thinking about Beric's words. He was his oldest friend. One of the few who were not afraid to give it to him straight. If there was anyone he should listen to, it should be Beric. Sandor froze when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

_"Sandor?"_

When he jerked his head to look at the person who had touched him, he almost choked on his mouthful of whiskey. It was like seeing a ghost. A ghost with green eyes and tattoos on her arms. She had colored her hair a few shades lighter, but it was _her._

"Audrina." Sandor said, his forehead wrinkled with emotion. She was the very _last_ person he wanted to see at that moment. "What are you doing here?" _Fuck, this just isn't my week..._

"I'm in town on business. There's a furniture show in King's Landing that my company has a booth at. They sent me here. Gosh I forgot how much I love this place." Audrina looked around as she nervously rubbed one hand up and down her other arm. Halfhand's Tavern was a bar they had frequented together as a couple. At one time it had held sentimental value to him, and he had stayed away after their breakup. Now it was just another bar. "May I sit?" She gestured to the barstool next to him.

Sandor shrugged as he tried to regain his composure.

Audrina pulled herself up onto the stool. "Sandor, you don't look good."

"That's what I hear."

They sat in silence for a while. Without asking, Audrina slid a cigarette out of Sandor's pack. After she lit it, she ordered a vodka soda. Sandor could feel Audrina studying him as she sat on his unscarred side. "I was going to call you while I was in town." Audrina let the minutes pass before speaking again. "I've missed you." She finally confessed.

Laughter rumbled from Sandor's chest as he took in what she had just said. " _Missed me,_ huh? What about that pretty boy cunt you ran off with? What was his name...Greg?" In truth, Sandor had known his name. However, he didn't want to give her the pleasure of thinking that he had dwelled on it.

 _"Jayson."_ Audrina corrected, her face pulled into a confused look. "And no...we're not together anymore. I caught him sleeping with his coworker."

"Well if that isn't just _poetic justice?"_ The sarcasm in Sandor's voice stuck Audrina like a needle. Ashamed, she looked away. Another long, awkward pause passed between them. _Gods, what the fuck does she want?_ Sandor asked himself, wishing she would just leave. He looked over his shoulder for Beric. He saw him across the room, talking to a girl he had seen him with before. Sandor rolled his eyes and turned back to the bar.

Clearing her throat, Audrina slowly spoke, struggling for her words. "I've been...I have- uh...thought about...moving home."

"What, back to Dorne?"

Shaking her head, Audrina tentatively placed a hand on Sandor's shoulder. Her black nails grazed the material of his work shirt. "No, home _here."_

Sandor felt his ears burn as his face flushed red. He shrugged her hand away and turned his whole body to face Audrina. He sneered. "And you just thought I would still be here waiting for you. Ready to welcome you back with open arms, is that it?"

Audrina shook her head and looked forlornly at him. "Well, I had hoped we could talk. Maybe...work things out?" She asked hopefully.

"No fucking chance."

 _"Please,_ Sandor. I made a mistake." Audrina reached for him. As she did, she continued, "A _huge_ mistake. I still love you. I never stopped loving you. We were something special, you and I. It can't b-" Sandor cut her off, grabbing her wrist and pulling it roughly away from him.

Leaning close to her face, Sandor lowered his voice to a growl. "You and I are _nothing_ anymore. Got that?! _Nothing!"_ He released her wrist and let the words keep spilling from his drunken mouth. "I had a good woman who loves me. And I may or may not have _fucked_ it all up because I'm so _fucked up_ in the head from _you."_ The words he had spoken washed over him in waves of sudden understanding. Saying those words to hurt Audrina only made him realize once again, he had been the person to blame all along.

"Oh don't you _dare_ blame all your problems on me. You were plenty fucked up in the head already when we met." Audrina hissed as she narrowed her eyes. "So if you have a woman who loves you, what are you doing here, drinking yourself into a stupor?"

Reaching into his pocket, Sandor extracted three ten dollar bills from his billfold and slammed them down on the bar. He stood from the barstool and pushed his way through the crows towards the front door, leaving the woman he had loved so long ago. Seeing her again made Sandor realize that she wasn't the only one who could love him. Sansa had offered her heart to him and he had turned it away because he was running from his past, blaming everyone but himself. If Sansa truly wanted him, how could he say no? Sandor knew what he had to do. He unlocked his phone and searched for the store business hours. It was 6:35, but if he hurried, he could make it to Whittaker's before they closed.

Sandor was out of breath and sweaty when he came to a stop in front of the formal wear store. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and addressed the receptionist. "I need to see Henri."

Alarmed, the blonde woman at the desk stood. Her eyes scanned Sandor's work uniform, dirty with grease stains, and came to rest on his face. "And um...who...who may I tell him is here?" She stammered.

"Sandor. I was just in here on Tuesday. He'll remember me."

"Yes, of course." The woman reached for a phone and pressed a button. "Yes, Henri. There's a...er. _..gentleman._..here to see you. Sandor...yes, said he was here on Tuesday." Her eyes nervously glanced back at Sandor. "Ok, thank you." She hung up the phone. "He will be with you in a moment."

True to her word, a minute later, Henri briskly walked to the front of the store. "Well _...just Sandor.._.did you change your mind about the tuxedo?"

Swallowing his pride, Sandor nodded. "Yes...hope it's not too late." _I've changed my mind about a lot of things,_ he thought sadly to himself.

With a knowing look, Henri replied, "No, it's never too late to make things right." He winked and beckoned with his finger for Sandor to follow him to the back of the store.

For what had to be the hundredth time that evening, Sansa laid her book down in her lap. The highlighter in her grip fell in between the pages as she finally closed it. She tossed it aside and pulled the blanket tighter around her body. It still faintly smelled of Sandor. She held the blanket to her nose and inhaled deeply. The blanket fell from her hands, fearing that if she smelled it too much, it would lose its masculine scent. Ever since seeing Thoros earlier that afternoon, Sansa had been stewing over her situation with Sandor. She _wanted_ to be angry at him. But Thoros' words stopped her. He had told her that Sandor had strong feelings for her and it had freaked him out. Did Sandor not think her feelings for him scared her, too? It didn't seem fair to her. _Why did he have to leave me scared and alone?_ Truth be told, her feelings for Sandor had terrified her. Never had she felt so strongly about a man so soon. A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. She climbed off the couch and walked into the foyer. It was Margaery.

"Hello, darling. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing."

Sansa leaned against the door frame as she spoke to her friend. "I'm ok. Just trying to get ahead on some reading for next week."

Margaery smiled. "Well aren't you _studious._ Tormund will be here to pick me up in just a little while. Sure you won't change your mind and come with us?"

Sadly, Sansa shook her head. She was happy for Margaery and that her relationship seemed to be going well. In time, she might be able to be around Tormund, but not tonight. "No, but thanks for offering."

"Ok, well I am going to go change. If I don't like the outfit I have picked out in my head, I might be back down here to raid your closet."

Sansa smiled as Margaery kissed her cheek and told her goodnight. Back on the couch, Sansa picked her book up again and picked up where she left off. After about fifteen minutes, she heard another knock on her door. "Gods, she has a key for this exact reason," Sansa muttered to herself as she threw the blanket from her body. As she reached for the doorknob and opened it, she began to speak. "Margaery, where is your k-"

The sight of him rendered Sansa's tongue useless. Her mouth fell open as she stared. There he was. In his white t-shirt and ripped blue jeans. The man who had broken her already fragile heart just days earlier. "Hey." Sandor said quietly.

 _"Hi..."_ Sansa's voice was almost inaudible.

"Can I come in?"

Unsure what to do, Sansa finally stepped back to allow him access into her apartment. Sandor crossed the threshold and entered the kitchen. Sansa hadn't noticed that he had been holding a single, red rose in his hand. He held it out to her. Hesitantly, Sansa took it. "Thanks." Tears were already welling up in her eyes before he even started to speak.

"Sansa..." He swallowed hard, the words he had rehearsed in his mind as he walked to her apartment suddenly gone. "I...um. Shit, Sansa...I fucked up." Sandor reached his hand out to her.

Remembering his harsh words on the sidewalk the other night, Sansa shied away from his hand. "Fucked up about what? Meeting me, or breaking my heart?"

 _I deserve that..._ Sandor reminded himself as he steadied his temper. "I...uh...the second one." Sighing a ragged breath, he went on. "Meeting you was the best thing that has ever happened to me. I will never regret meeting you that night as long as I live. I didn't mean what I said the other night. I'm so sorry."

Gently, Sansa placed the rose on the kitchen counter. _"Why_ then? Why all this...you freaking out and running away, only to come back days later and apologize. Why put me through all that?"

The words his rehearsed suddenly coming back to him, Sandor explained, "I have been running from my past for so long. And blaming everyone else for the way that I am. Blaming everyone but myself." Slowly, he reached out his hand again and placed it on her shoulder. When she let it stay here, he continued. "It's time for me to stop running from my past, and start running towards my future." _Shit, what a corny line,_ Sandor thought scornfully to himself.

With shaky lips, Sansa asked, "What do you mean?"

Sandor clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. _"You,_ Sansa. You're going to think I'm insane...but, I'm falling in love with you."

When Sansa heard him say those words, her face crumpled in tears. She allowed Sandor to put his arms around her. His voice rasped in her ear. "I made a promise to myself, to you, that I would be always be whatever kind of comfort you needed. And the very first chance I got, I broke that promise." He pressed her body close to his. "I'm so sorry." Sandor whispered. He pulled her body away from his to look down upon her. "Please forgive me."

All Sansa could do was cry. Her tears of sadness, having been spent were replaced with tears of joy. Still thinking she would refuse him, Sandor kept talking. "I'm yours, Sansa...body and heart. And I will do _whatever_ it takes to keep you." To prove his point, Sandor reached into his pocket and produced a folded yellow receipt. He unfolded it and handed it to her. As she read, Sansa laughed through her tears.

"You _bought_ a tuxedo?" She asked, astonished at the notion.

Sandor grinned a relieved smile. "Well, yea. You said you had a lot of black tie events this summer. And if you want me there, then that's where I'll be." He cleared his throat, nervously and used Margaery's words. "They might not be _my_ thing. But it's _your_ thing. And _you_ are _my_ thing."

Thinking for sure that her heart would burst, Sansa threw her arms around Sandor's neck. He lifted her from the floor as she kissed his lips over and over again. "Oh Sandor..." Sansa gasped as she kissed him. Her tears fell on his face. "I'm sorry too." Confused, Sandor set her down.

"What could you possibly have to be sorry for?" He gently wiped her cheeks with his fingers.

Sansa sniffed. "I'm sorry for putting all that pressure on you to do all that with me. It wasn't fair to you."

Sandor shook his head. "Enough of that. I was too selfish and stuck in my ways to realize how much it all meant to you. I still stand by what I said. You make me want to be a better man. I have been at war with myself in some way or another my whole damn life. I have never been able to find peace. Until I met you. _You_ are my peace, and…I…I need you." He stammered. That was all Sansa needed to hear. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard him utter those words. She reached for his face and placed a hand on his scar. Tenderly, she pulled his face close to hers. She let her lips brush against its roughness, kissing it over and over, until she was sure every inch of it had been covered. The last barrier between them had been ripped away. "Oh Gods, Sansa…" Sandor scooped her up in his arms. His lips met hers in a desperate kiss. She bit on his lower lip. "Sansa..." Sandor growled. "Please…I...I have to tell you..." Sansa was sucking on his tongue when he finally pulled her away. "Sansa...I will never do that to you again." One of Sandor's strong hands held Sansa's waist to his, the other stroked her petal-soft face. "I will never leave you again. I promise."

Sandor's promise was enough for her heart. But she had missed him in other ways. Her body needed the release she had been craving. "Take me to the bedroom..." Sansa whispered into his ruined ear.

With a laugh, Sandor lifted her right off her feet, carried her to the bedroom and let her fall with a soft bounce on the mattress. Leaning over her, they locked eyes for just a moment, just long enough for them to feel secure with one another again. Sandor reached for the waistband of her leggings and quickly peeled them away from her body. As he pulled, Sandor let his nails rake gently down Sansa's legs, sending shivers through her body. Sansa let her back arch in anticipation, knowing where his fingers would soon be. The rest of their clothes were a hinderance, but Sandor solved that problem in under a minute. Their tongues intertwined as they kissed, hands roaming each other, touching places the other had been terrified they would never be able to touch again. It was happening much quicker than the first time they had made love, but that was fine with Sansa. She needed him. Needed to feel him fill and stretch her. His fingers found their way down between her legs. He quickly, but carefully buried two fingers inside and curved them upwards, pressing against her sweet spot inside. Sansa grabbed the back of his head and neck and pulled herself up to meet him. She kissed him passionately, pressing and twisting her tongue against his. "Sandor..."

"What is it, babe?"

"I want it hard..." She whispered.

Sandor smiled and growled wickedly in approval. He grabbed her hips and flipped her over, propping her up on her knees. Sansa's body tensed. This was how Ramsay had preferred to take her. From behind. She closed her eyes and tried to push the memory out of her mind. She could feel Sandor on the bed behind her. Before he entered her, he leaned over and grabbed her neck. He pulled her head up and around towards his face and kissed her neck. His rough beard rubbed her skin and sent riveting sensations through her body. He nibbled at her earlobe and gently tugged her hair. When she let out a soft moan, he pulled back a little harder. "Oh Sandor..." she whispered. This was _most definitely_ not Ramsay. She could feel Sandor's manhood pressing against her slit. She rolled her hips back and forth, pressing and grinding on it. Sandor growled. "Are you ready for me?"

"Yes, want to feel you inside of me."

Sandor straightened back up and took a hold of his throbbing cock. He slid it back and forth across her dripping cunt. Sansa moaned in pleasure as he slapped his cock against her swollen folds. He thrust his length into her. Sansa's scream was half pain, half ecstasy. She knew what she was asking for when she pleaded for him to give it to her hard. Sandor leaned forward into her ear. "Sshhhh!" He hissed. "Your neighbors will hear." Sansa bit her lip and hid her moans of pleasure into her comforter. Sandor took Sansa's hips in his hands and began pumping his cock in and out. Each time, going a little bit deeper. A little bit harder. Sansa's walls were wet and slippery and oh so warm. Sandor spread her cheeks wide to see what he was doing to her. His shaft glistened with the slick juices from Sansa's cunt. His thumb found it's way to her ass hole. He pressed it against the taut opening, but did not enter. Sansa gasped in surprise at this new sensation. The pressure from his thumb felt so dirty and exhilarating all at once, and it made Sansa feel wild.

"Harder, Sandor!" She cried.

Sandor's other hand pushed her roughly down on the bed, her chest pressing against the soft fabric. Still restraining himself from the hardest he could go, he threw his hips at her, as he raked his fingernails down her back and around to her front. He felt around his point of entry until he found it. Her swollen, sensitive point of pleasure. He circled her clit with the tips of his fingers. Although his hands and actions were rough, they did not hurt her. Sansa knew she wasn't going to be able to last much longer. Never had she received pleasure from three different places at once. The sensations all culminated together within her body. Sandor could feel her tensing with a building orgasm. He pulled her shoulders up towards him, still keeping his hand on her clit. He rubbed it furiously as he still pumped his cock roughly into her cunt. "Oh Gods!" Sansa cried out, feeling her peak nearing. Sandor grabbed her hair and pulled her face back to his, stifling the screams from her mouth with his tongue. Sansa's body went limp with pure rapture. The slick walls of her cunt began to contract and squeeze around his cock. He continued to rub her clit and thrust. As Sansa's body convulsed and sang, she felt her wetness splashing out onto her thighs.

"Oh fuck _yes._.." Sandor growled in approval. He flipped Sansa onto her back and stared tantalizingly at her as he licked his fingers, tasting her liquid. He grabbed her knees and spread her legs. He pushed his cock back into her and reveled at just how tight she was. Her breasts bounced with each thrust of his hips. Sweat dripped off Sandor's brow and landed on her chest. The clenching of her tight walls was enough to send him over the edge. With a mighty groan, Sandor pulled his shaft out of her and began stroking himself with his hand. Spurts of his cum landed on Sansa's stomach and breasts as Sandor groaned. He fell back onto the bed next to her, gasping for breath.

"Wow..." Sansa breathed. Her body felt like a warm, viscous liquid that had just been poured from a pitcher. After wiping Sansa's chest and stomach clean with a towel from the bathroom, he collapsed onto the bed next to her, trying to steady his breathing. Sansa almost felt as if she were going to lose consciousness. Never in her wildest dreams ever thought that such pleasure could be had. Sandor was already more of a lover than Ramsay ever was. He was definitely doing the job better than anyone else ever had.

Sandor pulled her on top of his body so her back was flush with his chest. He leaned against the headboard and wrapped her tight in his arms. Time passed in silence as they laid there together. Sansa rolled over on his chest so she was facing him. "I'm glad you changed your mind about us." She whispered.

Sandor shook his head. "I was stupid. Never should have done it in the first place."

"Please, though...in the future...please, if there is _anything_ that ever bothers you...just tell me. I promise you I will try my best to fix it." Sansa gave him a pleading look. "Promise me..."

"I promise. You mean more to me than anyone ever has before. I'll make it my goal in life to make you happy." Sandor thought it was odd that he felt so comfortable expressing his deepest feelings to Sansa. But he didn't dwell on that thought too long. "I've never wanted any form of eternity until now, I never saw the point. I thought I did, but deep down with _her_ that wasn't truly what I wanted. It's different with you. You...you make me feel complete."

Happiness overcame Sansa and she could not help a tear that slipped from the corner of her eye. Sandor kissed it away. "Stop all that." He whispered. Her lips met his in a sweet and slow way. Sandor's fingers wound through her hair and pulled her face closer to his and deepened their kiss. Their tongues met and writhed against each other. Sandor's big hands passed over and over Sansa's back, feeling her smooth skin. "Turn back over..." Sandor's rough voice whispered in her ear. Sansa did as she was told. Her bottom rested right above his manhood. She nestled into him, marveling at how well they fit together. Like two pieces of steel that were forged to fit flush. Sandor's hands caressed her slender thighs, rubbed them, savoring their delicate smoothness. As he rubbed, his mouth found its way to her ear. Sandor brushed her hair aside and slid his tongue seductively across her earlobe. He took her cartilage in his teeth and breathed his steamy breath over her. Sansa moaned and sank even further into his body. Sandor kissed his way down her cheek and neck, as far as he could reach. The sensations from his calloused hands produced goosebumps on her flesh. Tenderly, Sandor squeezed her full, round breasts. He kneaded and massaged as Sansa let her head fall back on Sandor's strong shoulder. His fingers gently pinched her puckered nipples. Sansa rolled her hips over his. Blood rushed to Sandor's cock and it pressed into her ass. Instinctively, Sansa spread her legs and raised her hips off his, letting his cock spring up between her legs. Once it was nestled against her slit, she closed her legs and moved her thighs back and forth, letting his long shaft rub across her wetness. She reached down and took hold of the head and pressed it to her. Sandor growled low in his throat. "You know what you're doing..."

As Sansa moved her hips up and down, she smiled in response. "For you, I would try anything."

Sandor slipped his hands under her bottom and squeezed firmly. "Better not say that, baby...you might give me dirty ideas."

"Like what?" Sansa breathed.

"You'll see. But not tonight. We have the rest of our lives for experimenting." Sandor rasped in her ear. His fingers had found their way to her cunt. She was dripping wet. He ran one finger along the folds and slowly brought it away. Watching her juices string away from her and dangle from his finger made Sandor ravenous. He moved Sansa's body up slightly to gain better access to her. Slowly, he slid one finger into her hot folds. After pumping his finger in and out a few times, he reached another in. Then another. Sansa squirmed on top of him, enjoying the way his fingers pressed against her walls. Sandor hooked his fingers around to reach the tender spot inside her narrow channel. He began caressing and pressing his fingers in a snakelike manner against her front wall, stroking that ever so pleasurable spot. Sansa knew that she would cum again in no time with this tantalizing slow motion Sandor was making inside of her. Groaning, she raised her hands behind her and buried her fingers in Sandor's hair. He moaned in response, quickening his rhythm with his fingers slightly. He was determined to show Sansa that he could love her slowly. No doubt the way that Sansa would want it sometimes. Nothing fast, or urgent would take place this time around, he would see to that.

Sansa began rocking her hips in rhythm with his fingers, creating more friction to help intensify her nearing orgasm. Her breaths came out long and deep. "I want to feel you cum, Sansa. I want to feel your pussy grab onto my fingers." Sandor moaned in her ear. "Cum for me..." His beckoning voice pushed her over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her body as her orgasm overtook her. She cried out in ecstasy as her body shook. Her lips parted in pleasure. Her walls clenched rhythmically around Sandor's fingers. Sandor could not keep the smile from his face. Not only did he have the woman of his dreams back, he had the woman of his dreams in bed, and his fingers inside her, giving her an orgasm. To him, Sansa was the most precious being in Westeros. She deserved a lifetime of happiness and pleasure and there was nothing he wanted more than to be the source of such feelings. He wanted to follow her anywhere she would let him and worship her every step of the way. In one swift motion, Sandor flipped them over and put his hands on either side of Sansa. Her body was still trembling and flushed with excitement. She closed her eyes and giggled. She reached up to him and brought his face towards hers. She kissed him like he was her source of oxygen. Sandor had breathed life into her again, for being with him had made her feel alive after her ordeal with Ramsay. He settled his body between Sansa's open legs and penetrated her in one smooth thrust, which was easy since she was still very wet. Sansa gasped through her smile and wrapped her arms around Sandor's neck. He kept his strokes smooth and slow. Deliciously pleasurable. After a few moments, Sansa could feel her body building up in anticipation of yet another sweet release. So big was Sandor's manhood that it touched and stretched all the places inside that made her tingle and throb. Even though it was his second time entering her in a short time, Sandor knew he would not be able to last very long. He sat up, grasping Sansa's knees and looked down between her legs to get a better look. Each time he withdrew from her slit, her lips clung to his shaft. His cock disappeared into her slit slowly again and again, rubbing Sansa's tender spots inside. He lifted her upper body to meet his and she wrapped her legs around his thick waist. Sandor lifted and ground her hips against him in a wonderfully slow rhythm. He pulled her head close to his. "You're so amazing, Sansa." He never missed a stroke as he whispered to her. "You are the only thing in the world that matters to me."

Sansa knew she would never get tired of hearing him say that. What he said was precious to her, for she knew he was not a man of many words. Sansa vowed then and there to make it her goal in life to be Sandor's source of happiness and peace. Each slow, but firm rock of his hips pushed Sansa closer and closer to another orgasm.

"Does that feel good?" Sandor's deep arousing voice was rocking her over the edge. She could feel her walls of her channel beginning to contract and close tightly around Sandor's massive cock. "Oh Gods, yes...please don't stop!" She gasped as her orgasm began to overtake her. Her cunt latched onto Sandor's shaft as she climaxed. Sandor felt her wet slit constrict and knew he was only seconds behind joining her in ecstasy. He attempted to raise her hips off of him, but Sansa wrapped her legs tighter around him. "No, please! Please stay in me...I want to feel you cum!" She cried. Sandor needed no more encouragement. The walls of her cunt began to hungrily milk his cock. Not caring anymore who else in the apartment complex heard him claiming his woman, Sandor let out a deep roar from his lungs as his thick cock erupted inside of her. He fell back onto the bed with Sansa on top of him. They laid there for several minutes, trying to steady their breathing.

Tired and completely spent, Sandor pulled the covers tightly around their bodies. Sansa found her way into the crook of his arm that she loved so much. As she nestled up against his chest, she closed her eyes. No other words needed to be spoken between them that night. They had said everything that needed to be said. Almost everything. Sandor waited until he was sure Sansa was asleep. As he listened to her slow, even breaths, he kissed her forehead and leaned in close to her ear.

_"I love you..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Y'all know he can't stay away from her long. Makeup sex is the best though. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think about they chapter! 
> 
> So I have a separate thought......I rodeo and am very much into that sport and all things horses. I am contemplating writing a SanSan story that involves them on the rodeo road. What do y'all think?! Cowboy Sandor sounds like a fabulous idea to meeeee...


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so stoked to that y'all like the idea of cowboy Sandor! I've got a few ideas in my head already for my next story, but I want to finish out this one first. Hope y'all are happy that our lovers are back together :) As always, please leave a comment to let me know what you think, I love hearing y'all's thoughts! Happy Reading! xoxoxo

 

Elated was the only word that could describe Sansa's mood when she woke late the next morning. Sandor's arms were wrapped tightly around her as he pressed his body up against her back. He had found his way back to her and that was the only thing in the world that mattered to her at that moment in time. A close second feeling that she felt was security. Sandor made feel safe. Protected. Before Sandor woke, Sansa laid there in his arms, replaying the events of the night before in her head. His words would remain etched in her memory forever. _I'm falling in love with you.._. he had told her. Just thinking about those words was enough to set her heart a flutter. For Sansa, there was need to even use the word "falling." His words the night before had pushed her over the edge, headfirst into love with him. He had promised that he would never leave her again. Somehow, she did not doubt him in the least. The heavy, content sigh that flowed from her mouth caused Sandor to stir behind her.

"Good morning." He whispered into her ear.

A smile spread on Sansa's face. "Good morning to you. How did you sleep?" She rolled on the bed to face him. Their bodies were still naked from their love making the night before. His warm, hairy skin felt wonderful against hers.

"Much better than I've slept the other nights this week." Since their fight in front of the formal wear store, Sandor could count on one hand the number of hours he had slept. Being away from Sansa had wrecked him, to say the least. He stared at her for a long time. Still unsure if his words had sunk in, Sandor reiterated them. "Sansa, I meant what I said last night...I'm falling-" He paused for a deep breath "...fuck it, I'm _in love_ with you. There's no doubt in my mind that if I feel this way after the short time I have known you, that _you_ are the one the Gods have made for me." His hand found its way to her hair that he loved so much. He savored the silky feeling of his fingers gliding through it. "I bet you think I'm crazy. I have loved you since the moment I saw you."

Sansa shook her head. "No. No I don't think you're crazy. Because I feel the same way. I love you too, Sandor."

He closed her eyes and pulled her body closer.

The love they made that morning solidified the feelings they had for one another. They spent hours satisfying each other, filling the voids that neither one knew had ever been missing. It was late afternoon by the time they had expended all their energy.

The week of the gala arrived. Sansa could hardly contain her excitement. Everything had fallen into place. After his brief absence, Sandor had come back to her and everything was as it should be, for once in her life. For the night of the gala, Sansa made a reservation for a room at the same hotel that the event would be held in. She made plans with Margaery, Sandor and Tormund to all get ready at her parent's house and then ride in a limo to the hotel with them, along with Arya and Gendry. Catelyn had secured the best makeup artists and hair dressers in King's Landing to see that they all looked immaculate.

Armed with a pack of Camels and a flask of whiskey, Sandor drove to Sansa's apartment Saturday afternoon to pick her up to go to her parent's house so they could get ready. The tuxedo he had bought hung neatly in its nylon bag in his backseat. When Sansa had insisted that he try it on for her, he playfully refused, saying that if he couldn't see her in her dress, she could not see him in his tuxedo yet. His nerves were ragged. Nervousness had set in about how people would perceive him. Years of ridicule and judgement had given Sandor thick skin, but this was a whole different world he was about to step into, with a whole new set of people. But he had promised Sansa that he would give her the best he had to offer and had no choice but to suck it up and go with the flow.

As he hoisted Sansa's overnight bag onto his shoulder, Sansa reassured him once more. "You will be meeting a lot of people tonight, but you will do _fine."_ She placed a hand on his cheek. "Everyone will love you when they see how much _I_ love you." Sansa checked once more to make sure she had everything before draping the bag her dress was in over her arm.

"I hope you're right." Sandor muttered as he followed Sansa out the door. He just hoped no one would make any comments that would get him into a fight. That would surely spoil everything.

When they arrived at Sansa's parent's house, Margaery's BMW and an older model pickup truck were already in the driveway, along with Robb's Audi. "That's Gendry's truck." Sansa explained as they ascended the front steps. "You'll like him, he's not the office type of man...like you." She winked at Sandor. To Sandor's relief, Tormund was already at the Stark house as well. He was sitting on the patio laughing with Ned, Robb, and a man whom he assumed was Gendry. They were smoking cigars and drinking. "Have fun." Sansa said as she wrapped her arms around Sandor's shoulders. She raised herself up on her toes to kiss him before she headed up the stairs. "I love you." Sansa whispered.

Sandor loved the way those words sounded coming from Sansa. "I love you too."

Upstairs, Sansa had found that as usual for these events, the large bedroom and bathroom that had been hers growing up had been converted into a makeshift beauty salon. Arya rushed to her sister and hugged her. Her hair and makeup were already done. The hairdresser had teased her dark hair in a wide strip down the middle of her head and braided the sides to form a faux mohawk.

"So good to see you, it's been too long!" Arya exclaimed. She pulled away with her brow furrowed. "But where is your new man?"

 _"Please._..like he would want to come up here with us. I left him outside with father, Robb, Tormund and Gendry."

Arya laughed. "Well, I hope Robb isn't getting him too sloshed before we leave." Arya rolled her eyes.

"I will go check on them in a little while." Catelyn reassured her daughters. She turned and occupied herself helping Talisa with her dress.

As they walked into the bathroom, Arya turned back to Sansa. "Mom told me about your new boyfriend. A mechanic, huh?" She arched a dark eyebrow at her sister. "That's different for you." She commented as she leaned into the vanity mirror to touch up her dark red lips.

Sansa shrugged as she sat in the chair for the hairdresser to begin working on her hair. "So? The type of men I have dated in the past have brought me nothing but heartache."

In defense, Arya put her hands up. "It's not a bad thing, just surprising, that's all."

Margaery chimed in from the makeup chair. "They are wonderful together, Arya." She examined her face closely in a handheld mirror. "They bring out the best in each other. Qualities I'm sure the other didn't know they possessed." She winked at Sansa.

Blushing, Sansa guessed she was referring to their sexual escapades, which she had excitedly told Margaery all about. "Arya, did mother tell you what he...looked like?"

Arya shook her head. "No, why?"

"No reason, I just figured she would have warned you so you wouldn't say anything foolish."

"Ah glad you finally made it!" Robb welcomed Sandor as he stepped outside. He pulled up a patio chair for him to sit in. "Welcome! This is where we sit and cope while the women are getting ready." Robb rolled his eyes as he handed Sandor a cigar. "Sandor, this is Gendry. Arya's boyfriend."

Gendry stretched his hand out for Sandor. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Sandor said. He slapped Tormund on the back as he stepped around him to his chair. "Don't believe a word this one here tells you."

A loud guffaw escaped Tormund's throat. "Oh now I was just telling them how _excited_ we were about our first big outing with our lovely ladies."

Robb laughed in response. "Well, these things never get any less boring, do they, dad?"

"I'm afraid not." Ned said as he poured Sandor a drink from the outdoor bar. "That's why we usually occupy our time beforehand doing just this." He handed Sandor the glass of whiskey and Sprite he had poured. "They all have their interesting moments though."

 _"Oh,_ remember that time Theon threw up all over the buffet table at the fall masquerade?!" More than a little buzzed, Robb threw his head back in laughter. "That was brilliant!"

Gendry leaned closer to Sandor. "These things are basically just big parties. Lots of people, lots of booze...kind of like going to prom over and over again."

Sandor shook his head and chuckled. "Never went to prom." He glanced around at the men. "Never thrown up on a buffet table either. But I guess there's a first time for everything." The men laughed loudly in response. Spending time with them on the patio was settling his nerves. Wealth aside, they all seemed like normal, down to earth men. Befriending someone like Robb outside of his relationship with Sansa would probably never happen, but he liked Sansa's brother and was thankful he wasn't a douchebag.

Robb had continued telling about mishaps at past events. "The _trick,_ Sandor, is to be on your best behavior while still drinking all that you want. All you have to do is appear-"

The patio door opened suddenly. With an amused look on his face, Sandor watched as Robb and Ned quickly hid their drinks under the table when they saw it was Catelyn. They had not been quick enough though. Catelyn rolled her eyes. _"Don't_ you lot go and get drunk before we even get there!" She pointed a finger at all of them. "We leave in an hour and a half. I suggest you boys go ahead and start showering and getting ready too." Catelyn's makeup had already been done and her hair had been swept up into an elegant up-do. She raised her eyebrows at them before turning and shutting the door. Sighing, Ned rose from his chair and followed his wife inside.

An hour later, Sansa's makeup was done and her hair was set. Her hair fell in soft waves down her back and her eyes were smoky grey. Catelyn helped her into her dress and zipped the back. She stood back to admire her daughter. A happy smile spread across her face. "You look beautiful, dear."

Sansa smiled back as her mother held her hand. "Thank you." She sat on the bed to slip her shoes on her feet. "I can't wait to see Sandor in his tuxedo."

Catelyn laughed at the image. "Yes, that will be a sight to behold, I'm sure."

Sansa rolled her eyes. _"Mom."_ Catelyn smiled and hugged her daughter. "Do you _really_ like him? Or are you just courteous to him because of me?"

"I do like him, Sansa. Very much. I like him because he seems to make you happy."

Sansa looked at her mother sharply. _"Promise?"_

Catelyn nodded. "I promise."

"Here, let me help you with that." Robb offered when he saw Sandor attempting to tie his black bowtie.

Sandor straightened his neck. "Thanks."

Robb cocked his head to one side as he worked the satin fabric through his hands. "Mother told me that Sansa had already told you about Ramsay..."

Clenching his teeth at the thought, Sandor grunted. "Yes, she did."

"Well, then I guess it doesn't need to be said that we all feel very... _protective_ of her, and don't ever want to see her hurt in any way again."

 _Oh Gods,_ Sandor thought. Just when it seemed to him like be was being welcomed... Sandor cleared his throat before he carefully chose his words. This was her brother and he knew he had to be wise. "Sansa is very special to me. The sort of person I have not gotten to experience very often in my life. Trust me when I say...that being _hurt_ in any way is something she will never have to deal with ever again."

A glimmer of sadness at the memory of Sansa laying in the hospital bed showed in Robb's eyes. But he shook the thoughts away and smiled. He clapped Sandor on his arm and squeezed slightly. "And trust me when I say..." Sandor held his breath waiting for Robb's response, "...I don't doubt you in the least." His eyes moved to the top of the stairs that could be seen from the front room off the foyer. He winked and pointed his finger over Sandor's shoulder.

When Sandor turned around, his breath hitched in his lungs. Unaware he was even doing it, he placed a hand on his chest as his eyes fixated on nothing but Sansa as she slowly and carefully descended the staircase. His mouth hung open as his eyes tried to settle on a single part of her. Her firey red hair stood out against the emerald green fabric of her dress. _That dress_. The dress showed just enough of her chest and hugged her slim waist just right. If he had this to look at all night, he would have no problem getting through the gala.

Seeing the look on Sandor's face pulled Sansa's red lips into an amused smile. "Hello..." She held her hand out to him when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

Sandor took her hand in his, but held her at a distance so he could continue to admire her. "You look... _gorgeous."_

Sansa blushed. "Thank you. You look rather handsome yourself. Did you pick the tuxedo all by yourself?" She teased. With a black shirt, black jacket and black pants, he did look very smart indeed. As he had done for their date, Sandor had gotten his beard trimmed and groomed and had combed his hair carefully.

"I had some help..." Sandor laughed as he leaned his forehead down to touch hers. He didn't have to lean as far as usual. The shoes she wore made her at least four inches taller.

Laughing, Sansa replied, "Well, Henri did a _very good job."_ Hidden in the corner of the foyer, they shared a short, but passionate kiss before everyone else made their way down the stairs.

Ned and Catelyn shared a limousine with Robb and Talisa. The other three couples shared a second on their way to the hotel where the gala was being held. Arya seemed to connect with Sandor right away and they were lightheartedly picking at each other the whole ride into King's Landing. As they pulled up to the curb in front of the Sixth Season Hotel, Sandor gawked at the flashing cameras.

"What the fuck...? What's with all the cameras?"

Sansa squeezed his hand. "They are mostly here for whatever celebrities make an appearance." She leaned close to him and whispered, "But if we're not careful, we might wind up in the King's Landing newspaper."

Feigning apprehension, Sandor widened his eyes and raised his eyebrow. "Well, we better be _extra careful,_ then." Even though he was keeping his comments and expressions calm, he was a bit nervous on the inside. Once they stepped out of the limo, Sansa slipped her hand through Sandor's arm. He stared in shock briefly at the flashing cameras around him before he felt Sansa move to follow the others inside. Remembering what Sansa had said in the limo, Sandor pressed his lips into the most pleasant facial expression he could manage at that point in time. The second floor ballroom of the hotel was an impressive sight. Catelyn and Sansa's hours of meticulous planning and hard work had paid off. The chandeliers were dimmed enough to shed soft light on the decorations. Big, fancy arrangements of flowers sat in the center of tables draped with rose gold, sequined tablecloths. Two rows of long tables with the items for the silent auction were on one side of the room. On the other side of the enormous room was table after table of the most wonderful smelling food. As Sandor followed Sansa to the front of the room to their table, he made a mental checklist of all the foods he wanted to have before the night was over. _At least I won't starve to death,_ he thought as he eyed the food. He knew there was no way he'd be able to try everything. There was a mashed potato bar, prime rib, oysters and various other types of seafood, at least eight different kinds of pastas, a variety of sushi, and numerous other fancy delicacies that Sandor couldn't name. Their table was at the very front, right next to the dance floor. A band was set up on the stage. Sandor could feel stranger's eyes on him as he walked next to Sansa. He could only hope the looks from the men were mostly out of jealousy. Walking with Sansa on his arm did give him a smug satisfaction, knowing none of the pretty boys they passed didn't stand a chance with her.

Raising his voice over the music, Sandor leaned to Sansa. "Where's the bar?"

Sansa pointed to a door that led to the balcony. "Outside. Don't be long though, there's some people I want you to meet."

Sandor and cocked a sideways smile at Sansa before making his was outside. To his delight, the bar had a selection of beer from Kettleblack Co. on tap. Remembering what Margaery had told him, Sandor retrieved a twenty dollar bill from his billfold and handed it to the bartender. After accepting the money, the bartender eyed Sandor's face and gave him a gold wristband to wear. Also remembering that he was under strict instructions from Margaery not to get hammered, he opted for a lighter beer. He also got a flute of champagne for Sansa from a nearby server with a tray full. Once back inside, Sandor found Sansa next to the auction tables talking with one of the shortest men he had ever seen. He extended a finger from the hand that held her champagne and touched her lightly on the arm.

Sansa turned. She smiled and accepted the glass. "Thank you! Sandor, I would like for you to meet our school's headmaster, Tyrion Lannister. Tyrion, this is my boyfriend, Sandor Clegane."

Sandor held his hand down to the man. "Good to meet you."

Tyrion shook Sandor's hand. "Very nice to meet you, as well, Sandor." Tyrion's eyes narrowed in recognition of Sandor's surname. "Are you of the same Clegane who managed the steel factory?"

Sandor nodded. Before his father's death, he had overseen production at Golden Lion Steele. "That's the one."

Tyrion nodded. "Your father worked for my father. I met him once or twice. My father always spoke very highly of him. He was a good man, hard worker."

A breath of air huffed from Sandor's lungs. He tried to think of a nice thing to say about his father. "No denying his work ethic," was all he could muster with a nod of his head.

Sansa's eyes widened as she remembered what Sandor had said about his father. Quickly changing the subject, she asked Tyrion about any items he had bid on. Tyrion clapped his hands together and began to walk down the aisle between the tables where people were gathered to keep an eye on what they were bidding on. Sansa mostly listened to Tyrion babble excitedly about bidding on a week's skiing trip in the far north. Sandor looked over what was being bid on. There were a few ornate paintings, weekend trips to exotic destinations, tickets for a cruise in The Bay of Dragons, bottles of wine, and several other elaborate items. One auction item was a picture of a car. When Sandor stepped closer to read the card underneath, he realized the car itself was what was being auctioned off. Some things were going for a few hundred, while others were being pushed to several thousand. He smiled when he saw that the current bid for Thoros' yoga sessions was up to $245.

"And all this money is going to charity?" Sandor asked Sansa once they came to the end of the tables.

Sansa nodded as they walked back to their table. "Yes, a _very_ good cause."

Sandor grinned and held his hand up to show Sansa his fancy wristband. "Well I did my part. What little I could."

"And we thank you for that." Sansa leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. As she straightened back up, she looked at the next table where Margaery and Tormund sat with her Margaery's grandmother. "We must go say hello to Olenna." Sansa said reluctantly as she took Sandor's hand. She greeted the old woman, who rose to kiss Sansa's cheek.

"My you are looking well, my dear." Olenna said warmly. She hadn't noticed Sandor behind her yet. "Sansa, Raul is here, and he is _quite_ interested in meeting you."

Quickly, Sansa turned to Sandor. "Olenna, I would like for you to meet my _boyfriend,_ Sandor Clegane." She emphasized the word boyfriend as she tugged him next to her. Weeks before meeting Sandor, Sansa had been told of the man that Olenna spoke of. He was rich and classically handsome. However, since she had met Sandor, every thought of the eligible bachelor had left Sansa's mind.

The old woman jerked her head towards Sandor and a surprised look plagued her face. "Good heavens!" She exclaimed as she looked up at him. Her lip quivered as her eyes darted back and forth between Sansa and Sandor. Tentatively, Olenna held her frail hand out. "How do you do?"

Taking a deep breath to steady his temper, Sandor put his hand gently around hers. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

Not letting her hand make more contact than necessary, Olenna quickly withdrew her palm from his grasp. "The pleasure's mine." She replied dryly before turning back to Sansa. "I still would like for you to meet Raul."

Irritated at her grandmother, Margaery intervened. _"Grandmother,_ I can assure you, Sansa is quite settled with her match..."

Waving a hand at her granddaughter, Olenna spoke to Sansa. "It would never hurt to at least meet him, now would it?"

Sandor could feel his pulse quickening. His ears burned with some embarrassment, but mostly anger. Noticing his friend's discomfort, Tormund jumped to his feet and was at the old woman's side in an instant. "My dear Olenna...you have no drink. Allow me to escort you to the bar." He took her hand and draped it tightly over his arm as he turned them to walk away. Sansa could hear him attempt to charm Olenna as he led her outside. "Now, let me guess, you're a _gin drinker..."_

"Gin and cranberry juice, dear." Olenna said before their voices disappeared with their distance.

Horrified, Margaery looked at Sandor. _"Please_ ignore my grandmother. I love the old goat, but she does not know when to _shut up!"_ She put a hand on her forehead. "Gods, I'm so embarrassed. Can you forgive me?"

Sandor laughed it off. "There's nothing to forgive. I'm used to it."

With a sad look, Sansa placed a hand on Sandor's arm. "I wish you didn't have to be _used to it."_

Sandor put his arms around Sansa. "it's ok...really. Just drop it." Realizing his last words sounded more harsh than he intended, he softened his tone. "Just as long as you're happy, _I'm_ happy."

Sansa smiled up at him. "I am happy."

"Good." Sandor gently pinched her chin in his fingers. "I'm going to go smoke a cigarette." He leaned close to her ear. _"Don't go anywhere..."_ Sandor lightly bit the cartilage of her ear before turning to walk outside.

As Sansa shivered from the feeling of his lips on her ear and his hot breath on her cheek, Margaery stepped to her side. "I think he deserves a little something later on..." She gestured her head at Sandor as she nudged Sansa with her elbow. Tormund was returning to the table with Olenna. He placed her drink on the table and dotingly pulled her chair out for her. Margaery smirked at Tormund's actions. "I think they _both_ do."

Outside on the balcony, Sandor got another beer from the bar and leaned on the railing as he lit a cigarette. All around him, groups of people who clearly felt like they belonged there, mingled and laughed. A few feet away, a group of clean cut men were gathered, sharing a laugh as they talked amongst themselves. One of them turned to Sandor. "Hey, man...mind if I bum a smoke?"

Sandor fished his pack of cigarettes from his chest pocket and handed it and his lighter to the man. He had dark hair neatly styled with gel and olive toned skin. The man took a cigarette and lit it before handing the pack back to Sandor. He sucked in. "Menthol...good man. Much appreciated. It's usually the same crowd at these things. I haven't seen you around, though. I'm Raul Anastas." Raul offered his hand out.

Pocketing his cigarettes, Sandor shook the man's hand, marveling at the irony of his current situation. _Raul_ was not a common name, and this character _had_ to be the man whom Olenna had insisted on Sansa meeting. "Sandor."

"Glad to know you." Raul leaned his back on the railing and looked through the large doors that led back into the ballroom. "These events aren't as dull as they're made out to be. Good place to meet the _ladies._ Lots of single ones to choose from tonight." Raul's friends laughed and agreed. Turning his head back to Sandor, Raul asked, "You having any luck with any of them this evening?"

Ignoring the muffled snicker Sandor heard from one of Raul's companions, he replied cooly, "I'm actually here with someone."

Raul hid his scoff less than smoothly with a slight cough. "Oh really? Who?"

 _Fuck, this is great,_ Sandor thought to himself. He secretly wished time would slow a bit so he could savor their reactions. "Sansa Stark."

Stunned, Raul's friends gawked. A small laugh came from Raul. He stopped, then laughed a bit louder. _"Sansa Stark,_ no shit?!"

Exhaling smoke over the balcony, Sandor nodded.

One of Raul's friends laughed. "I'll believe _that_ when I see it."

Sandor crushed his cigarette butt in an ashtray on the table next to him. Slowly, he approached the man who had made the comment. The other men shrank away, giving him space. Even though the man who had made the rude remark stood up straight and puffed out his chest slightly, Sandor still stood a head taller than any of the men gathered. Unintimidated, he smirked at him. "I'm a big man. So it should be easy for all of you to see." He stared for another minute, making sure the man had nothing else to say before Sandor turned and walked back to the ballroom. A sense of pride surged through his veins. He was proud of himself because he hadn't blackened the man's eye. Staying out of trouble in situations where he had a chance to fight was rare for him. Mostly though, Sandor was proud of himself because Raul and his friends were envious of him that Sansa was his and not theirs. Envy was not an emotion that any man had ever felt of him before, and he relished the feeling. He did not go to Sansa right away when he entered the ballroom. Giving the men hope that Sandor had been lying would be amusing to him, and he decided to wait until later to prove to them that Sansa was with him. Instead, Sandor perused the buffet tables, filling a plate with prime rib, mashed potatoes, pasta, and a few oysters. When he reached their table, Ned and Catelyn were sitting, enjoying their food. Sandor lowered himself next to Ned.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Ned asked.

Nodding, Sandor replied, "Yes I am." It wasn't a total lie. Save for the few rude stares and the snide comments, Sandor was relatively pleased with how the night was going. Remembering that Sansa had explained that her mother had planned most of the decorations and the event itself, Sandor complimented the interior of the room. "Everything looks very nice in here. And this food...you chose what they would serve?"

Smiling, Catelyn nodded.

"Well it's delicious. Good choices."

After dabbing her mouth with a napkin, Catelyn looked over at Sandor. "Thank you, dear! And I must say, you look very handsome this evening." Her tone was genuine and Sandor smiled appreciatively and thanked her. They spoke for a while about various topics. Being a faithful patron of theirs, Ned was delighted that Sandor had gotten his tuxedo from Whittaker's. After a while, Sandor returned to the bar for another beer. When he walked back into the ballroom, he saw that Ned and Catelyn had left the table to check on the auction. Sansa had sat down at the table with her dinner. On his way back to the table, Sandor snatched another glass of champagne for Sansa from a passing server's tray. As he sat down, he scanned the room for Raul and his companions. They sat just a few tables away towards the middle of the room. Sandor couldn't help but smirk as he saw them, eyes on Sansa and himself, craning their necks to see around the crowd of people.

"You will never guess who bummed a cigarette from me earlier..." Sandor whispered as he leaned in close to Sansa.

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Oh Gods, Arya? I told her mother and father would be watching-"

Sandor cut her off with a shake of his head. "I met that Raul fellow that the old lady wanted you to meet."

_"Really?!"_

"It had to have been him. He and his friends seemed very put out that I was here with _you._ Even went as far as to say they didn't believe me."

Shifting her body to be closer to Sandor, Sansa raised an eyebrow. "Can you see them? Are they watching?"

Ever so slightly, Sandor glanced from his peripheral vision to see if Raul and his friends were still clamoring from their table to see him. "Yes."

"Good." Sansa slowly leaned closer until her lips brushed the skin of his cheek as she draped her arm around his shoulders. Hoping that her father was nowhere nearby, she let her lips make contact with his, seductively running her tongue across them. Immediately, he opened his mouth to allow her tongue access to his and they engaged in a quick kiss that would be deemed inappropriate for public by most standards. Satisfied with her display of affection, Sansa giggled as she drew back. "I love you." Hoping whoever was watching could read lips, she mouthed the words carefully.

"I love you too." Sandor happily replied.

Ned had stepped to the stage to announce the winners of the auction that had recently ended. "I have the results of the bidding in my hands! But first, I would like to say a very heartfelt thank you to all of our sponsors..." He continued his thank yous and acknowledgements for a few moments before reading the names of the winners. Clapping and cheering echoed through the room as he named each winner. Tyrion was ecstatic that he had won his skiing trip. A dark haired woman Sandor assumed was his wife smiled as she kissed him on the cheek. "And the total amount raised here tonight...topping last year's...just shy of $100,000...our proceeds from the auction total $98,400!" Upon hearing the amount, the audience in the ballroom applauded and whistled. Wrapping up his speech, Ned continued, "We cannot thank you enough for your generous donations that help our charity give back to those in need. Enjoy the rest of your evening everyone!"

Once Ned had left the stage, the band began to play again. Couples stepped gracefully around the dance floor. From the corner of his eye, Sandor could see Margaery laughing and twirling with Tormund. Sandor knew it had been coming, and he cringed as Sansa asked him to dance with her. His experiences with dancing was very limited, but not nonexistent. When he had first come to live with the Dondarrions, Beric's mother had attempted to teach Sandor to dance. She was an enthusiastic ballroom dancer, and Sandor had given in to her invitations to teach him a handful of times, just to placate her. At the time, he had not particularly enjoyed it, but in retrospect, those had been some of the few happy memories he had from his adolescence. Grumbling, he allowed Sansa to drag him to the dance floor. "I have to warn you, I'm not very good at this at all." He told Sansa as she moved his hands into the right position.

"Well that's ok, because _I am."_ Sansa began to move and step in time with the music. _"I'll lead."_ To no surprise, Sansa turned out to be a wonderful dancer, and Sandor had little trouble keeping up with her. There were only a few occurrences where he stepped on her toes. Song after song played and Sansa kept a firm grip on his hands between each one, begging for him to stay. Finally, the band began a slow melody, which relieved Sandor. Slow dancing required little to no grace or talent. He smiled as Sansa closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder as the slowly moved in time with the music. When the crowd parted slightly during the dance, Sandor caught sight of Catelyn and Ned watching them from their table. Ned rested his hand gently on Catelyn's knee as he smiled and whispered something into her ear. Catelyn nodded as she pressed her fingers to her own smiling lips. Whatever Ned had whispered to his wife had brought what Sandor swore was a tear to her eye. He only hoped Sansa's parents truly supported his love for their daughter.

When the slow song ended, another more lively one began. "Absolutely not, I have had enough for one night." Sandor protested as Sansa insisted on one more dance. He saw Robb approaching and took Sansa's hand and held it out to him. "But I am sure your brother would _love to."_

There was a strange look on Robb's face that immediately put Sandor on edge. "What? Oh, dancing...yes, of course. But..." he stepped closer to Sansa and said lowly, _"...Roose is here..."_

Sansa's already fair skin turned a noticeably paler shade. She took a staggering step backwards against Sandor's chest. Instinctively, Sandor put his arms around her. He could feel her body trembling. Sansa's head jerked back and forth, surveying the crowd of faces in the ballroom. "Is he...?"

"No." Robb already knew what she was going to ask. "He's not with him that I can tell."

"I must get some fresh air." Sansa snatched herself from Sandor's arms and darted towards the doors that led to the balcony.

As Sandor turned to follow her, Robb put a hand on his arm. _"Ramsay's father_ is who's here..."

Understanding, Sandor nodded at Robb before joining Sansa outside. She was leaning on the railing, steadily gulping deep breaths of air. Sandor put his hands on her shoulders. "You ok?"

Sansa jerked her head up and down. "I'm ok." She whispered weakly. "Water would be nice, though."

Without hesitation, Sandor went to the bar and asked for a bottle of water. He uncapped it and handed it to Sansa. As she sipped from the bottle, Sansa looked nervously around. "Are you sure you're ok?" Sandor inquired again.

"Yes, I'm fine, I just..." Sansa paused to fan herself with her hand. "Just...it was hot in there was all."

Looking mighty unconvinced, Sandor lit a cigarette as he watched her pace the railing, looking over her shoulder ever few seconds. Her actions worried him. The sheen of sweat on her chest he knew wasn't all from dancing.

"Maybe...it might be time to go upstairs to the room. It's getting late anyway." Sansa commented as she paused from her pacing. "When you're done with your cigarette, that is." The time for Ramsay to be released was coming closer by the day, and hearing that his father was in close proximity to her was too much for Sansa to handle.

"Done." Sandor replied as he stubbed his half smoked cigarette into a nearby ashtray. "Let's go." He took Sansa's quivering hand and led her through the doors. Ned instantly approached the couple as they picked their way through the waning crowd.

"I'm assuming Robb told you Roose showed up."

Nodding at her father, Sansa asked him what he had come for.

"He wanted to make a donation. Paid his respects and left directly afterwards." Ned folded the check he was holding and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

Remaining silent, Sansa nodded again. Ramsay's father had been nothing but courteous to Sansa during their courtship. He had not been overly loving towards her, but he was definitely not the monster that his spawn was. Even though it wasn't Ramsay that had shown up, her nerves were still rattled. "I think we're going to retire for the evening anyway." Sansa said as Catelyn walked over to join them. She hugged her parents. "I'll see you tomorrow for brunch. Please tell Arya and Margaery goodnight for me."

"Of course, my darling." Catelyn said as she hugged Sansa tight. She turned to Sandor and hugged him as well. "Thank you for being here. It means a lot to us." Before drawing back, Catelyn lightly kissed his cheek.

On their way to the elevators, Sandor realized they had not gotten a chance to visit the dessert table during the evening. He made a mental note to find some excuse to return to the ballroom once he got Sansa settled. Once the elevator doors closed, Sansa sighed and leaned her head on Sandor's shoulder.

"When will my emotions ever return to normal?" She wondered sadly out loud. "Just when I feel secure, something like this happens. What's going to happen when he gets out next... _no...this month?"_

Sandor slipped his arm around her. "Nothing's going to happen. That's what." He turned her chin to face him. "I promised you I won't let anything happen to you. And I will do _whatever_ it takes to keep that promise." He pressed his lips firmly to her forehead in a reassuring kiss.

The suite Sansa had booked was magnificent. The greatroom had large windows with a spectacular view of downtown King's Landing. As they wandered around the rooms, Sandor thought of an excuse to return to the ballroom. "I must have left my phone on the table downstairs. Will you be ok up here for just a minute?"

Sansa nodded as she reached around for the zipper on her dress. Abruptly, Sandor stopped her hands. "Don't take this off yet..." He growled in her ear as he pressed his body to hers.

"Why not?"

Sandor dug his fingers into her hips. "Because _I_ want to take it off..."

His rough tone immediately made Sansa's body seize with anticipation. She turned to him and kissed his open mouth. "Well then hurry back..."

Impatiently, Sandor pressed the down button for the elevator over and over. When it finally reached their floor, he stepped towards the opening doors and ran right into Tormund. He and Margaery were laughing and groping each other, clearly trying to make it to their room in time. Tormund had placed his white jacket around Margaery's shoulders.

"And where are you going?!" Tormund demanded as Margaery put her arms around him, urging him down the hallway.

"Forgot some dessert."

"Hah! I've got my dessert right here!" He heard Tormund growl as the elevator doors closed.

In no time, Sandor located the table that held the cupcakes and put two on a plate. He turned to leave, then stopped and picked up two more, reasoning to himself that bacon was a breakfast food...and another maple bacon cupcake would be excellent for breakfast. From the looks of it, the party was just about over. Workers were beginning to put the food away and the band had stopped playing. On his way out, Sandor grabbed a bottle of champagne from the cooler they sat in, waiting to be served.

Back in the room, Sandor saw that Sansa was on the balcony. He set the plate of cupcakes and the bottle of champagne on the kitchen counter and tossed his jacket and bowtie on the table. He stepped through the sliding doors to join her in the cool evening air. Without saying a word, Sandor put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. He leaned his chin on Sansa's bare shoulder. "I had fun tonight."

Sansa smiled at his words. She had settled down considerably, now they they were alone in their room. "The night isn't over yet..."

Pressing his smile into her skin, Sandor said, "Well I have a surprise for you." He took her hand and led her back into the suite.

Scoffing happily, Sansa picked up a cupcake from the plate. "We did forget these, didn't we?!"

Sandor popped the cork off the champagne bottle and retrieved two glasses from the cupboard. He poured them full of champagne and picked a cupcake up and began to peel the wrapper off. "Well you were raving about how good they were. I had to see for myself." In one big bite, he devoured half of the cupcake. It was every bit as good as Sansa described. The salty bacon paired perfectly with the sweet maple frosting. "Not bad. Not bad at all..." he commented as he finished.

The sight of Sansa licking some stray frosting off her finger sent a rush of blood to Sandor's groin. His hardening cock strained against his slacks as he moved behind Sansa. He swept her hair aside and laid slow, gentle kisses down her neck and across her shoulder. As his lips brushed her skin, his fingers found their way to the zipper on her dress. With a downward pull, the dress slipped to the floor and pooled around the high heels she was still wearing. With his eyes closed, Sandor's hands skimmed down her waist to feel what she had on underneath. They flew open and down when he discovered Sansa had worn a garter belt that held up thigh high sheer black stockings. This was something he had to see. Sandor stood back as Sansa stepped away from the dress on the floor. _"Oh baby..."_ he breathed low as he took in her figure.

Smiling seductively, Sansa slowly walked to the couch and beckoned him to follow with her finger. Sandor followed and positioned himself between Sansa and the couch. She pushed the palm of her hand against his chest and he let his body fall back to the furniture. Staring up at her, Sandor watched as Sansa slowly unhooked her bra, letting her breasts bounce free. When she reached for the clasp on her garter belt, Sandor stopped her. "Leave this on..." he insisted.

"Shoes too?" Sansa asked coyly.

Sandor nodded and reached for her. Sansa playful pushed his hands away. Ready for whatever ideas she had in her head, Sandor laid his hands on either side of his body. Sansa carefully placed her knees on either side of him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She inclined her head to meet his lips with hers in a slow kiss, laced with passion. "Can I touch you _now?"_ Sandor asked between kisses.

Sansa breathed heavily against his neck as she kissed it. _"Please do..."_

Sandor's hands immediately flew to her firm ass and squeezed as he ground her hips across his lap. Yearning to be free, his cock was painfully hard. Quickly, Sansa began working the buttons on his shirt. Once she pulled it free from his arms, she raised her hips so she could address the issue of his pants. Sandor slid them off, but Sansa demanded that he leave his underwear on. For now, anyway. As she kissed him again, this time with even more fervor, Sansa rolled her hips against the bulge between his legs. The sensation of his hardness through the fabric of her panties was leaving her breathless. Warmth radiated across her skin as she let the feeling seep through her body. Sansa knelt down in front of him and removed the rest of his clothing and shoes. She resumed her position straddling him, but remained raised off his crotch. With one hand on his shoulder, she reached the other down to grasp his cock. Pressing it against the fabric that separated it from her wetness, she rocked her pelvis back and forth. Sandor let his head fall back to the cushions with a loud groan. Sansa leaned forward to whisper in his ear. _"Let's go to the bedroom..."_

Not needing to be told twice, Sandor stood. As he raised himself, he wrapped his arms around Sansa, supporting her weight as he carried her. He lowered himself back on the bed, keeping Sansa on top of him. Raised upright, Sansa began touching her smooth skin, starting at her neck. She slowly worked her hands down to her breast and kneaded them in her palms, and pushed them together. Her fingers slowly dipped lower into the waistband of her thong. Sighing, she slipped a finger inside her wet folds and began to work it in and out. A ravenous moan came from Sandor's throat as he watched her hand work its way around inside her panties. She withdrew her hand. A finger was slick from her wetness. Sandor pulled her hand towards him and put her finger in his mouth and sucked. The feeling of her finger in his warm mouth caused Sansa to inhale sharply. Sandor reached his hands between her legs and with little effort, ripped the fabric of her thong, revealing her to him.

 _"Hey..."_ Sansa whined in protest.

"I'll buy you more...I need you...now." Sandor ripped the rest of the lacy fabric away and tossed it aside, leaving Sansa in nothing but her garter belt and stockings. Watching Sansa parade around all night in her green dress that accentuated her feminine figure had driven Sandor mad with lust. He grasped his throbbing cock in one hand and guided Sansa's hips slowly down onto it with the other. Every time he penetrated her felt like the very first time. Sansa's tight walls stretched to fit his girth. As she sank her hips down lower, Sansa's brow creased with emotion and her mouth fell into a perfect little "o." Slowly, she began to rotate her pelvis over his, pressing and grinding to create the friction that would bring her release. With a gentle touch, Sandor reoriented her face closer to his and held her gaze in a way that magnified the spark between them. There was no smile on his face, only the hot intensity of his eyes that were eagerly expecting the inferno that was to come. Sandor kept his hands firmly on Sansa's hips as he enjoyed the view from underneath her. She took his hands and pinned them above his head. It was something Sansa had never done it before, and it empowered her to the core. Leaning down, she let her breasts brush his face. Sandor took a nipple in his mouth and bit down gently. Gasping at the sensation, Sansa released his hands and braced herself on his chest. Sandor drug his fingernails down her back and grasped her ass as he pumped his length in and out of her. In unison, their bodies began to convulse from their throbbing orgasms. Sandor arched himself towards Sansa as he came, burying himself even deeper inside as he erupted inside of her. Tiny fireworks sparkled behind Sansa's eyelids as she collapsed onto his chest, gasping for air.

They took each other again and again during the night, sleeping in short spurts before reaching for one another in the darkness. They were each other's drug and there was no antidote to sober up.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day...whaaaat?! Well stranger things have happened. Merry Christmas 'ya filthy animals! Hope you enjoy!

 

Around mid morning the next day , everyone met in the hotel cafe for brunch. All except for Ned, Catelyn, and Talisa were a little hungover. The waiter diligently refilled coffee mugs, and delivered bloody marys and mimosas.

As Catelyn looked around at her children laughing and conversing lightheartedly with one another, a satisfied smile crept to her face. Although Margaery was not of her blood, she still loved her like a daughter, her mother having long been deceased. Each of her children had found the one whom their soul loved, and that in itself brought her more happiness than any riches ever could. Catelyn could not deny that at first glance, Sandor would not have been her pick for Sansa, but she had come to admire his devotion to her and was proud that her daughter had chosen to go beyond appearance and love the man within. After all, that had been one of the values she had tried to instill in her children. And Sansa had done just that.

Once brunch was over, everyone said goodbye and went their separate ways. Sansa took Sandor to pick up his car at her parent's house, then joined him at his apartment for a lazy afternoon of snuggling and love making.

On Tuesday morning during school, Sansa got a call from her family's lawyer. When she took her class to recess and had a chance to call him back, Rodrik Cassel asked her to come by his office that evening to sign a few papers so the restraining order could be put into effect. After she hung up, Sansa looked at Margaery and sighed. "Well...that was Mr. Cassel. I have to go to his office and sign some stuff for the restraining order."

Margaery put her hand on Sansa's. "Do you know when he gets out?"

Sansa shook her head. "No, he said he would give me more details when we meet tonight. I'm assuming he will let me know then." She held her phone back up and opened her text messages. "I'm going to see if Sandor can come with me."

Sandor texted back immediately and said he would, but insisted on spending a little time with her afterwards. That was fine with Sansa, because she knew she would be stuck doing schoolwork all the rest of the week with the end of the semester approaching. She had three papers to finish and an exam to take all before Sunday at midnight. She had already been working diligently on her papers, and they were almost complete, but she voiced her worry about the exam to Margaery.

"We'll take it together." Margaery said as they lined their students up to go inside. "I'll bring my laptop to your room and we can do the questions at the same time." She smiled and raised her shoulders. "No problem! Think you'll be ready to take it by Thursday?"

Sansa nodded as they turned and walked towards their building. That afternoon was a blur of reading centers and math lessons. Thoughts of her meeting with the lawyer that evening plagued her mind. She wondered if it would be better to simply be blissfully ignorant as to when Ramsay would be released. _No_ , she thought to herself, _I need to know._ Sansa kept her mind occupied with her students' reading progress. Pride swelled in her chest as she listened to a group who had struggled at the beginning of the year, read their book almost flawlessly.

When Sandor picked Sansa up at her apartment after school that afternoon, he could tell she was on edge. He reached over and rubbed his hand on her thigh. "It's going to be ok." Sandor told her.

"This restraining order is just a piece of paper. Nothing more." She replied, looking absentmindedly out the window at the passing buildings. "Paper won't stop him..."

Sandor ground his teeth together, ignoring her slight snap. "And for the tenth time, I told you I won't let anything happen to you."

Closing her eyes and sighing, Sansa said, "You can't be with me all the time. What about then?"

Knowing she was right, but still getting a little irritated, Sandor withdrew his hand from her leg. "Well damn, Sansa. What do you want me to say? No, I can't be with you all the time, but you'll be carrying my pistol." He huffed a breath and gripped the steering wheel as he pulled up in front of the lawyer's office. "I hope like hell that you won't ever have to use it, but..." His voice trailed off as he put his car in park and shut off the engine. He shook his head.

Seeing his annoyance, Sansa took his hand. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just...I know how possessive he was _. Is._ This isn't just something I can get over." Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to spill. "I'm just scared." She turned her face to Sandor. When he saw her blue eyes wet with impending tears, he reached her for. _"I'm so scared..."_ She whispered into his chest.

In his arms, Sansa felt so frail and helpless. Deep down, he knew there was nothing he could tell her that would make her feel completely at ease. Silently, he cursed the bastard for all that he had done to her. He hated seeing the woman that he loved so fiercely scared and upset. Sandor stroked her hair and held her against him. "I know it won't be an easy thing to get over. I never said it would be." He pulled her away and held her at arm's length. "I'm here for you though...and I'll be here every step of the way. I promise you...you won't be alone." Sansa fell back against his chest and clutched his shirt tightly. "I won't leave you. I love you too much."

Sansa sniffed and looked up at him. She gave him a weak smile. "I love you too."

Sandor patted her on the back. "Now let's go on and get this over with."

Sixteen stories up, Sansa and Sandor sat in leather chairs opposite of Rodrik Cassel. Ned had come as well, and was leaning on the wall as he looked out the window.

"So the paperwork is pretty straightforward." Rodrik explained, fanning the papers out for Sansa to see. "Mr. Bolton cannot come within one hundred yards of you, your place of work, or residence. He may not contact you verbally, electronically, or anything of the sort. If Mr. Bolton violates any of these orders, he could receive up to a year in jail and pay a substantial amount of fines."

Sandor listened, but glared darkly at his hands folded in his lap. He despised the way the lawyer called him _Mr. Bolton..._ like the bastard deserved some sort of respect. But he kept silent as the lawyer finished explaining the ins and outs of the restraining order. He handed Sansa a pen.

"Do any of you have any questions?"

Sansa found herself unable to speak. She rolled the pen between her fingers as she leaned her elbows on the large desk in front of her. Finally, Sandor spoke up. "When is he getting out?"

Also curious about his release date, Ned turned his full attention to Rodrik. "Next Wednesday...the 15th." The lawyer ran a hand across his forehead and spoke to Ned. "Have you told her of what else we discussed?"

Upon hearing the lawyer's words, Sansa snapped to attention. "What?!" She demanded.

Rodrik rose to pour himself a drink. He took a swallow and grimaced at the burn of the alcohol. "We could put you into protective custody, Sansa. Relocate you, give you a new identity..."

Cutting him off, Sansa jumped to her feet. _"WHAT?!_ Father, you cannot be serious! Please tell me you didn't agree to this!"

Sandor could feel his chest tightening at the mention of _protective custody._ The possibility of never seeing Sansa again was not something he had been prepared to face when he walked into that office. The ominous thought loomed in his mind as he tried to regain his composure.

Now pacing, Sansa was still ranting. _"Absolutely not!_ I cannot possibly leave everything behind! I cannot leave my family! My students...they won't understand...and my master's degree...Margaery..." Her eyes, once again rimmed with tears darted to Sandor. He was out of his chair in an instant, with his arms around her protectively.

"Sansa, we're leaving the decision completely up to you." Ned said softly from the corner of the room.

Rodrik spoke again. "Well there's the alternative..."

With Sansa still in his arms, Sandor glared at the lawyer. "Which is...?"

Rodrik gestured his hand to the paperwork on his desk. "Pray that the restraining order will be enough."

Desperately, Sansa looked up at Sandor. Her eyes searched his for any sign of what she should do. At that moment, Sandor wanted to take her and run out the door with her, get them into his car and drive to the airport. Just go somewhere _...anywhere,_ and leave it all behind. As much as he wanted to have her in his life, Sandor knew he shouldn't let his selfish desires and possessiveness get in the way of Sansa's safety. With a finger, he tenderly stroked her cheek. "It's your choice, little bird."

By now, Sansa was breathing hard. Her hands shook as she turned with the pen in her hand. She leaned down to the table to sign her name on the restraining order paperwork. Once upright, she darted across the room to her father, who took her into his arms. "I can't leave my life. I love all of you too much..."

Ned held her and nodded. "No one is wanting you to or asking you to leave, love. It's just an option we thought we would let you know about."

Sansa blew out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "I know, dad."

Once everything with the restraining order was signed and settled, Sandor drove Sansa back to her apartment. After the events at the lawyer's office, Sansa was so disconnected with the world that Sandor knew being intimate with her that night was most likely off the table. So instead, he wrapped her in a blanket and held her as they laid together on the counch. Sansa picked at the pizza he had ordered for them and watched the tv with little interest. Three times, Margaery called. The fourth time, Sandor answered the phone and walked into the kitchen.

"Hey Margaery, it's Sandor."

"How did it go? How is she doing?"

Sandor peeked around the corner into the living room. Sansa had laid her head on the cushions where Sandor had been sitting. "Not good. I mean, well I guess the meeting went ok, she's just sort of...out of it now."

Sandor heard Margaery sigh on the other end. "Give her a bath. That always makes her feel better."

"Ok. Thanks."

"Goodnight Sandor."

After saying goodbye, Sandor went back into the living room. He leaned down and kissed Sansa on the forehead, then turned and went into the bathroom. He put the stopper in the drain of the large bathtub and began to fill it with water. Seeing the candles on the corner of the tub where it met the wall, he fished around in his pocket for his lighter and lit them. Reaching into the shower, he uncapped the body wash and poured some in the water, making it bubble. Hearing the water running in the bathroom, Sansa got up off the couch to see what Sandor was doing. A small smile came to her face when she saw the steamy, soapy water.

"You want a bath?" Sandor asked.

Sansa nodded and let the blanket fall to the floor. With a coy little smile, she held her arms up. With as much finesse as he could muster, Sandor lifted her shirt over her head. Sansa unhooked her bra and shimmied out of her pants. She stepped into the tub and drew her knees to her chest. Sandor took a seat on the vanity stool and leaned his elbows on his knees to watch her. "Are you not joining me?" Sansa inquired.

Sandor laughed at the notion. "Do I look like a bubble bath kind of man?"

Shrugging, Sansa said, "Big tub...little person. There's room for you."

Sighing and standing up, Sandor began to undress. He couldn't stand to say no to Sansa. "You might need to let some of that water out." He laughed as he slid his pants and underwear to the floor. Sansa smiled and pulled the stopper out and let a few inches of water drain. She moved to the other side as Sandor stepped in and leaned against the side. Sansa made her way into his lap and sank back against his chest. Sandor kissed her cheek as she laid her head back on his shoulder. They laughed and talked and bathed each other until the water grew cold.

Once they were dry, Sansa climbed into bed. She curled up beneath the luxurious sheets. "Will you stay?" She asked.

"Of course I will." Sandor pulled the covers back and settled himself behind her body. For the sweet bath gesture, Sandor was rewarded with a blowjob. Her warm, wet mouth felt amazing wrapped around his length and he was coaxed to climax in no time. He gawked stupidly as Sansa swallowed his cum down her throat. Sansa insisted that she wasn't up for much of anything else that night, so Sandor pulled her close and enveloped her in his strong arms. He kissed her mouth deeply and caressed her soft skin. A small laugh caught his attention. "What's so funny?"

"Most men don't want kisses after something like that."

"Haven't you realized by now that I'm not _most men?"_

Sansa laughed again. "Oh I know you're not."

"I don't like hearing you talk about the fact that you've been with other men and know what they do and do not like."

Hearing the jealousy in his voice gave Sansa a little twinge of satisfaction. "Well as accomplished as you are, there's no denying you've been with other women."

A deep laugh rolled from Sandor's throat. _"Accomplished,_ huh?"

"Very much so. How many women do you think you have been with?"

Sandor groaned. "Gods...do we really have to talk about this?"

"I'm just curious is all! Come on...more than ten?"

Sandor gritted his teeth. "Higher than that."

"Twenty?"

"I'd say closer to thirty. Maybe one or two over."

"I see." Sansa nodded against her pillow.

Sandor defended his answer. "Well I have a few years on you, and I have been single for the majority of my adult life." Leaning his head on his pillow, Sandor asked, "What about you? No, gah...I don't want to know." He closed his eyes and groaned as Sansa giggled. "Fuck it, tell me."

"You're number six."

"Hmm...you sure you don't want to go and find  _lucky number seven?_ "

Feigning anger, Sansa scoffed and swatted at his shoulder. Sandor laughed and ducked away from her feeble smacks. "I'm _kidding!"_ He wrapped his arms around Sansa. "I wouldn't mind if it stayed six for the rest of your days

As a flutter in her heart grew to tingly warmth through her body, Sansa leaned across his pillow to kiss him. "I think I would like that."

"Good." Sandor replied. "Me too."

For Sansa, the next few days were filled with school and studying for her exam. She and Margaery spent long hours after school Wednesday going over notes and highlighting passages in their books. Sandor was kept occupied at the garage. He missed Sansa and eagerly looked forward to when her class was over. Friday morning, Sansa caught a ride with Margaery to school. She had made plans for Sandor to pick her up at the end of the day. Both girls were all smiles and laughter, having both made a 100 on their final exam, and their class was over for the semester. The fact that there were only two weeks left in the school year only added to their enthusiasm.

As Sandor parked his car in the spot closest to the stairs that led up to the buildings Friday afternoon, he noticed a security guard walking towards him. He got out and the man greeted him cautiously.

"I'm picking up Sansa." Sandor told the man.

"Yes, she said you were coming. What's your name?" The security guard asked, taking out his phone and scrolling through some pictures. He looked at a picture Sansa had sent him, identifying her boyfriend.

"Sandor..."

Nodding, the security guard pocketed his phone. "Sorry, Mr. Lannister explained the situation to me and gave me strict instructions to verify identity with photos. Never can be too careful."

"Yes, well I appreciate you checking."

"I'll be off, then. Have a good night." The security guard turned to leave.

Sandor nodded at the man and climbed the concrete stairs that led to Sansa's building. He knocked on the door until he saw Sansa's red hair appear through the first door on the left. She bounded towards the hallway door and flung it open. "Hello!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. Sandor squeezed her tightly and inhaled her sweet scent.

"I missed you." He complained as she led him into her room. Sandor shut the door behind them. Sansa's classroom was warm and inviting, like her apartment. Posters and charts with math and reading strategies hung on the walls and neat rows of desks filled the space in the middle of the room. Sandor sat in her desk chair and pulled Sansa by the hips closer to him. A finished paper was on her computer screen, ready to be submitted. "I missed you _a lot."_ Sandor knew Sansa had been busy with final papers and exams this week, and he had been willing to give her time to herself to get everything accomplished, but his nights had been lonely without her by his side.

Sansa smiled and positioned herself between his knees. Sandor's rough fingers grazed the outside of her thigh. "I've missed you too." Sandor ran the hem of her lavender skirt between his thumb and index finger. He tugged down slightly, revealing a small sliver of ivory skin above the waistband.

"Nice skirt." Sandor said as he leaned forward to kiss the bare skin. Shivers crept through Sansa's body as she felt the hairs from his mustache tickle her skin. Her mind drifted back to weeks ago when Sandor had mentioned bending her over her desk. Casually, her eyes assessed the items that were scattered across the surface of the desk. Save for her computer and a glass vase with some artificial peonies in it, there was nothing breakable on it. A bold notion entered Sansa's mind as she thought of something to say.

"Thanks." She said cooly as she leaned down to kiss him. _"I wore it for you..."_

Sandor's body tensed with the realization of what she was implying. He rose up from the chair and looked down at her and took her face in his hand. "Did you now?" He twirled the end of her pony tail in his fingers. Slowly, he pulled the elastic band out of her hair. Sansa shook her head, letting her hair fall loose around her shoulders. "Are there cameras in your classroom?"

Sansa bit her smiling lips. "Just in the hallway."

"Can they see into your room?" Sandor asked as he rolled the top button of her blouse in his fingers, popping it free. He casually reached for the vase on her desk and set in on a smaller desk nearby.

"No."

"Good..." Sandor growled as he reached for her. One hand grasped the back of her neck and pulled her close as he met her soft lips with his. His other hand worked the rest of the buttons loose on her white blouse, revealing a white satin bra. Sandor's mouth flew to her neck and he began to kiss and nibble his way down to her cleavage. Sansa moaned and let her head roll back as he kneaded her breasts together. She pressed her pelvis against his to feel his hardened manhood inside his jeans. Sandor lifted her hips to the edge of the desk, knocking a cup of pens and a stack of books aside. Sansa laughed against his lips and wrapped her legs around his thick waist. Careful to miss the expensive looking computer, Sandor swept the rest of the clutter on the desk to the ground. Sansa laughed again as she heard the clatter on the floor. Gently, he laid her back against the cool wooden surface, his lips never leaving hers. Sansa's lips found their way to Sandor's ear. He shivered as she gently clenched his earlobe in her teeth.

_"Baby...?"_

"What is it?" He rasped into her neck.

"I want you to _fuck me..."_

Sandor rumbled a deep, wicked laugh. The tone of her voice paired with her intriguing resquest sent his blood pumping harder than it already was. He loved hearing her innocent voice telling him to fuck her. Abruptly, he pulled Sansa to her feet and turned her around. His hand flew to her chest and he raked his fingernails across her skin, eliciting goosebumps on her flesh. Sansa drew in a sharp breath as his hand gently closed around her neck. Sandor pushed her down to the desk. The sound of him undoing his belt behind her made Sansa's body seize with heated anticipation. In an instant, Sandor had let his pants and underwear fall to his ankles. He pulled Sansa's panties down and kicked them aside. The hem of her skirt was draped over her ass, so Sandor lifted it and let it fall against her back. Sandor entered her wetness and began to pump smoothly. With one big hand placed on the small of her back, pinning her in place, he moved in and out of her. Sansa's body jerked back and forth with the strength of his movement. The desk banged against the wall and with every sharp thrust their skin slapped together lusciously. Sandor brought his hand down roughly on her firm round bottom. He liked he way her flesh jiggled as he spanked her, so he did it again, leaving a big red handprint. Sansa moaned in response and flung her hair back. Catching a handful and wrapping it around his hand, Sandor pulled back, evoking a squeal from Sansa.

"Harder!" She cried as she desperately gripped the edge of the desk. Having sex in her classroom felt exhilarating and naughty. This was no slow, gentle lovemaking. This was passionate, urgent fucking, and Sansa loved it. She showed no sign of distress despite his rough handling of her. On the contrary, her back arched, raising her ass higher, urging him on to fuck her harder, to go deeper, to take more of her. Unable to resist, he took her hips in his hands and squeezed as he pounded.

His massive erection was rubbing and hitting Sansa in just the right spot to send her into oblivion. Stars studded her vision as she cried out for him. "Oh Gods, yes Sandor!" Her limbs twitched with the spasm of her climax. Sandor could feel the walls of her cunt squeezing his cock and he pulled out seconds later to shoot his load on the floor. Groaning, he worked his cock in his hand until he was spent. Sansa lay limp against her desk, gasping for air as Sandor fell back into her chair. Forgetting that it had wheels, the chair bumped into the shelf behind him.

 _"Damn..."_ He panted. "I'm going to need a cigarette after _that."_

Sansa laughed as she pulled herself upright. She retrieved a paper towel to clean up the mess he had made on the floor. Sandor stood as well, tucking everything back into place before zipping and buttoning his jeans. Sansa reached for her panties on the floor, but Sandor got to them first. "I think I'll just hang onto these..." he said with a laugh. Sansa raised an eyebrow as he brought them to his nose and inhaled before stuffing them into his pocket. The dirty gesture was enough to make her want him all over again.

Sandor bent and began to pick up the desk items he had knocked on the floor. He smiled as he picked up a picture frame. The picture in it was of him and Sansa, along with Margaery and Tormund at the gala. In the picture, he was smiling, a rare occurrence for him and photos. But that had been a happy memory for him and he would cherish it forever. He was glad that he had pulled his head out of his ass and had given Sansa what she wanted and deserved. He set it on the desk and lowered himself again into her chair. Sansa settled onto his lap and reached for her keyboard. Sandor pulled her back to his chest and squeezed her tight. Sansa giggled. "I need to get this paper submitted." She protested.

"I just love you, that's all."

Sansa smiled at his words. "I love you too. And I loved you fucking me."

"Has anything like this ever happened to you before?"

"What, sex at school?" Sansa asked. She felt him nod behind her. "No." She twisted ber body to face him. "It'll be very hard to concentrate at this desk from now on..."

A deep laugh rumbled from Sandor's throat. "Well it'll give you something to think about on boring days."

After Sansa submitted her final paper, she closed her computer down and switched the lights off in her classroom. She walked hand in hand with Sandor down the steps to his car. "I'd like to go for a ride on your motorcycle sometime." She commented as she slid into the passenger seat and closed the door.

"You ever been on one?" Sandor asked as he turned the key over in the ignition. Sansa shook her head. "Good. I like being your first for some things." As he pulled onto the road, he lit a cigarette. "You hungry?"

Sansa squirmed against the leather seat. Her lack of panties made her feel sexy and provocative. She knew she would need to have him again later that night. _"Starving..."_ Sansa corrected as she glanced up at Sandor through her eyelashes.

The next few days flew by for Sansa. Sandor mostly stayed at Sansa's place. After work, he showered and walked or drove with Pierre to her apartment, so he wouldn't have to stay alone. In the mornings, he and Pierre would return to his apartment to get ready for the day. Sansa told him it wasn't necessary to always stay at her place, but Sandor had resisted. He wanted for her to be with him as much as possible. If they stayed at his place, she would have to walk or drive there alone, and that was out of the question, especially with Wednesday fast approaching. Sandor didn't mind going back to his apartment in the morning. He had always been an early riser and it was hardly an inconvenience for him. When the day of Ramsay's release came, Sansa was almost beside herself. That day, she was so nervous, she could hardly concentrate. Since there were only days left in the school year, Sansa decided to just put on a movie for her students and invited Margaery and her class over to her room too. Once the kids were settled on the floor in front of the big interactive board in the front of her room, the girls sat back in their comfortable desk chairs and propped their feet up on Sansa's desk. They whispered quietly as their students watched their movie.

"So today's the day huh?" Margaery said, grimly, placing her hand on Sansa's arm.

Sansa nodded. "Yes. Yes it is."

"Well I know this isn't anything you haven't already heard, but it's going to be ok. Whenever Sandor is busy and you don't want to be alone, just call me. I'm here whenever you need me."

Turning to smile at her friend, Sansa nodded again. "Thank you. I'm glad I have you. Sandor has insisted that I carry his extra pistol."

Margaery raised her eyebrows. "Well that should stop Ramsay in his tracks. If he ever is stupid enough to come for you."

"He will, Margaery, I know he will."

Margaery shook her head. "He will not."

"Yes he will...you remember how awful he was. Ramsay won't give up that easily."

Margaery pressed her lips together. "Well hopefully he won't." She sighed and picked at her cuticles. "Let's talk about something else...something happy."

The thought of her and Sandor's passionate sex against her desk filled her mind. Margaery noticed Sansa's grin. _"What?!"_ She whispered lowly.

Shielding her mouth from the students with her hand, Sansa leaned close to her friend's ear. "Sandor and I had sex in here."

 _"What?! Where?"_ Margaery hissed quietly.

Blushing furiously, Sansa motioned her head to her desk and filled Margaery in, sparing no detail. Margaery giggled and clapped her hands together. "My, he is naughty, isn't he?" She commented, winking at Sansa. She leaned over to whisper in Sansa's ear. "I let Tormund do anal on me the other night."

Sansa gasped. "Really? How was it?"

"Oh it was _amazing._ You should try it again sometime."

Sansa knew what Margaery was referring to. Ramsay had tried it one time on her. Of course, he had enjoyed it, but it left a lot to be desired for Sansa. "I don't know if Sandor would _fit..."_

Margaery glanced at their students to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them. They were all fixated on the screen. "Darling, with the right lubricant, you'd be surprised. It's a whole 'nother level of intimacy, and it feels _incredible_ when done properly. Ramsay's just an ass who didn't know how to please a woman." She paused to run a hand through her brown waves. "I bet Sandor would know exactly what to do. How big is he, anyway?"

Sansa couldn't deny that Margaery was probably right. Without a doubt, Sandor would know what to do and how to do it...should she ever decide to engage in the act again. She recalled the night he had pressed his finger against her asshole as he took her from behind. What an exhilarating feeling it had been. It had only added to the intense pleasure he had already been giving her. With a sideways smirk on her lips, Sansa held her fingers apart to show his approximate length. Margaery stared, wide eyed at her estimate. "Thick, too I bet."

"Thickest I've ever had. I can't even get my fingers around it."

Margaery wiggled her eyebrows up and down at Sansa. _"Jackpot."_

They had timed the movie just right. It ended as the afternoon announcements came on and it was time to go home. Once all their students had gone home for the day, the girls were able to leave. Margaery had dinner plans with Tormund, so Sansa and Sandor convened later that night to watch the evening news. They settled onto the couch with Pierre and some takeout boxes of Chinese food. Anxiously, Sansa listened intently as story after news story ran. She was almost in tears her nerves were so ragged. A pretty, blonde news reporter came on the screen. She stood outside the courthouse and spoke into the microphone.

"Ramsay Bolton, son of mllionaire entrepreneur, Roose Bolton, is being released today after a court hearing." On the screen, the courthouse doors opened. Sansa scanned the television screen and listened as the reporter continued. "Bolton was charged last fall with domestic violence filed by his then long time girlfriend, Sansa Stark, daughter of CEO Ned Stark of Stark Enterprise."

Horrified tears filled Sansa's eyes as it showed Ramsay on the screen, being escorted by security, along with his father to a black sedan by the curb. The news reporter was still speaking words Sansa could no longer hear or were interested in. She began to tremble when the camera focused closely on his face. Ramsay noticed the camera, and smiled a strange, demented smile into it. Sansa was barely aware of Sandor's arm around her shoulder, squeezing gently. Even though Sansa knew Ramsay couldn't see her, it was almost like he knew she would be watching. His smile was taunting her, and it was more than she could handle. A terrified breath shot out of her mouth as Ramsay winked into the camera.

"Turn it off...turn it off I can't take anymore!" Sansa cried out as she clutched her heaving chest.

Sandor scrambled for the remote he had lost.

 _"Gods, please turn it off!"_ Sansa screamed. As terrified as she was, she could not tear her eyes away from the television.

Sandor located the remote and quickly turned it off. Sansa was crying by now. Pierre licked her hands anxiously. "I've got you..." Sandor rasped into her ear as he hugged her close. Sansa sank into his embrace and shook. "I'm here... _shhh..."_ Her fingers dug so hard into his back Sandor thought for sure her nails would leave marks. But he didn't care. He clutched her as tightly as he could as she clung to him for dear life.

Suddenly, Sansa felt her stomach turning within her. Her hands felt clammy and sweat began to bead on her forehead. Swallowing hard, she tried to calm herself by taking a few ragged breaths. It was not working. She wrenched herself free from Sandor's grasp and ran for her room with Sandor close on her heels. Once she reached the bathroom, she hurled herself down in front of the toilet and gagged violently as her dinner left her body. Sandor knelt behind her and gathered her hair at the nape of her neck as she heaved again and again. He rubbed her back as she coughed and sputtered into the bowl. As her body shook against the cold porcelain, Sandor reached up to flush the vomit out of her sight. He grabbed a washcloth from under the sink and wet it with cold water. Back on the floor with Sansa, Sandor dabbed the cloth across her face as tenderly as he could and gently wiped her mouth. Her breaths came out in shaky bursts as she threw herself into his arms and sobbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sansa... :(


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa deals with some heavy shit (watch out!) with Sandor's help. Sandor comes to a realization he thinks he might have already known, then has a heart to heart with Beric. Hope you enjoy this chapter and don't forget to leave a comment to let me know what you think! Happy reading xoxoxo

Feeling helpless wasn't something Sandor was acclimated to. All his life, he had prided himself on being a tough hardass. But having Sansa huddled against him on the cold bathroom floor as she wept and trembled left him feeling incredibly helpless. Sansa had stopped responding to his soothing words and stared blankly at the wall. Every so often, words or noises would come from her mouth, but Sandor couldn't make sense of them. Thinking that a hot shower might help, Sandor stood and gently picked her up off the floor. He sat her on the edge of the tub and began to remove her clothes. Once she was stripped down, Sandor reached into the shower and ran the water until it was hot. Leaving Sansa to stand in the shower alone probably wasn't a good idea, so Sandor undressed himself as well. He hoisted Sansa up and stepped into the shower with her leaning against his body. The feeling of the hot water running down her back finally registered in Sansa's mind. She realized Sandor was rubbing her arms, using his low, raspy voice to coax her back to reality. As the water began to trickle into her eyes, she shook her head and gasped.

"Come on, Sansa..." Sandor was saying. "I can't do your girly shower routine by myself." A wave of relief washed over him as she tentatively reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. Sansa looked up at him with her blue eyes. Sandor cupped her face in his hands as he looked down upon her. _"There she is...hey."_

Wondering how she had gotten from the couch to the shower, Sansa glanced around, confused. A horrible taste was slathered on her tongue and she coughed and spit as she let the shower water enter her mouth. She remembered she had seen Ramsay's face on the television. He was out. _Gods, he's out.._. The thought almost overwhelmed her again as she clutched Sandor's slippery body.

"Hey.. _.hey._..I've got you. It's all right." Sandor said urgently as Sansa's fingers dug into the flesh on his arms. Her knees felt weak and they wobbled beneath her. To prevent her from slipping, Sandor gripped her elbows. Panic flashed in her eyes as she tried to comprehend the words he had just spoken. To her, things were not all right. Her sadistic ex boyfriend was out of prison and for all she knew he was ascending the elevator at this very minute.

Seemingly coming to her senses, Sansa jerked her hands to the shower faucet. She turned until the water ceased to fall. "I've got to go." She mumbled as she opened the shower door and stepped onto the bath mat. "I can't stay here." A bewildered Sandor was left dripping water onto the shower floor. He watched with confusion as Sansa darted here and there around the bathroom, gathering items and stuffing them into an overnight bag. Water rolled off her skin with every movement her frantic body made. Sandor stumbled out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. "I've got to leave..." Sansa exclaimed as she crossed the threshold into her room.

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Sandor demanded as he hastily followed her to her dresser where she was snatching clothes from the drawers. "Leave? Where are you going to go? Sansa, answer me..." Sansa ignored him and continued to stuff clothes into her bag. Getting frustrated, Sandor caught her wrists and pulled her to face him. " _Sansa!"_ He bellowed. He shook the bra free that she was grasping in her hand. "Dammit, Sansa talk to me. You're acting crazy!"

Anger replaced the fear in her eyes as she heard his words. "Don't fucking call me crazy! Don't you _ever_ call me crazy!" Sansa snapped. Her shrill voice was almost a shriek. "All I know is that the man who beat me is out of prison and I cannot stay here another _second!"_ She struggled against his grip. "Let go of me!"

"And where are you gonna go, huh? Answer me that?!"

Her voice unchecked, Sansa wailed, _"I don't fucking know!"_ Desperate tears of frustration and anxiety streamed down her face as she fought to free herself. "But if I stay here, he will find me and kill me!"

Understanding her desperation, but knowing she shouldn't run away, Sandor tried to reason with her. Unfortunately, he was beginning to let his anger get the best of him. "You can't just run away, Sansa! I've tried that, it doesn't _fucking work!_ You can't let fear control your life, if you do that... _he wins!"_

Sansa caught Sandor off guard long enough to rip her hands free from his. In a rage, she pushed him away and used her fists to hit him agaisnt the chest, all the while screaming. "Don't tell me what will or will not work in my life! Don't you dare tell me what I can't do!" One of her hands came down with a hard smack onto his chest. "I can go if I want to!"

"Stop...dammit, _stop it!"_ As he grabbed Sansa and squeezed her body and her arms to his torso to avoid getting hit anymore, Sandor heard a knock at the door. _Fucking great, probably her neighbors_. "Sansa...I'm not letting you go...you've got to stop." He heard the front door open. "If I let you go, will you stop hitting me?" The violent squirm that he felt from her body gave him his answer. He heard Margaery's voice coming from the foyer.

"Sansa? Sandor? Everything ok?"

Glancing down to make sure his towel was still in place, Sandor answered. "In here..." Sandor heard Margaery tell Tormund to wait in the other room as she flew across the living room and shut the bedroom door behind her. He loosened his grip on Sansa and her body went limp against his as she bawled.

"We heard you guys downstairs. Sansa, darling...what's wrong?" Margaery brushed her wet hair away from her face. Sansa had fallen into a sort of trance and was once again, unresponsive to their voices. "Take her to the bed." She directed Sandor. In response, he cradled her in his arms and placed her on the mattress. He propped the pillow under her head as Margaery pulled the covers around her. Noticing that her glazed eyes were fixed on the ceiling, Sandor began to worry all over again.

"What's wrong with her?" Anxiety afflicted his voice as he asked. "She just started freaking out, saying she had to leave, she had to get out of here." He raked a hand through his soaked hair and kept explaining what had happened. "We were watching the news...we saw him, she ran to the bathroom and threw up, and then just...lost it. Got out of the shower, started running around packing a bag, saying she had to leave."

Remembering the first few weeks Sansa was home after the incident, Margaery nodded understandingly. "This has happened before. After she was released from the hospital." She called over her shoulder. "Tormund! Run back to my apartment and bring me my purse, quickly!" Sandor heard Tormund leave the apartment in a hurry. Turning back to Sansa, Margaery spoke to her calmly. "Sansa...you're fine. Everything is _just fine._ We're not going to let anything happen to you."

Weakly holding her head up from the pillows, Sansa replied, "But he's out, Margaery. Ramsay is out, I saw him."

"I know he is out. But Sansa, you've got to go on with life. You can't give Ramsay the pleasure of knowing he still controls you." She stroked her forehead and gently pressed her head back against the soft down pillow. "You don't want that, do you?"

Swallowing hard, Sansa shook her head. As Margaery talked to Sansa, Sandor went into the bathroom to pull his jeans back on. They heard the apartment door swing open.

"Can I come in?" Tormund called from the living room.

Making sure the covers were pulled up to cover Sansa's naked chest, Margaery said yes. Tormund handed Margaery her purse. She fumbled around in it until she found what she was looking for. An orange vial of prescription pills. "Tormund, get me a glass of water, please."

When he returned with the water, Margaery shook a white pill from the canister into her palm.

"What's that?" Sandor asked, motioning with his head.

"Xanax." Margaery put the pill in Sansa's mouth and handed her the water. "Swallow." She demanded. Sansa obeyed and then let her head fall back to the pillow. "Get some rest, love." Margaery kissed her forehead and turned to join Tormund on the couch in the living room.

Compassion and worry for Sansa flooded Sandor's heart as he sank onto the bed beside her. He wasn't angry at her for striking him. It certainly wasn't the first time he had taken a hit from a woman. It just made his heart break for her that she was scared enough to lash out at him. He knew the situation was dire, but running away wasn't the answer. "Sansa...baby?" He leaned down to her face and tilted her chin towards him. Sansa's eyelids were beginning to droop with the drowsiness brought on by the Xanax. It didn't seem like her eyes were focusing on anything. "I love you. I'm here." He repeated himself over and over, hoping for some type of response. When he got none, he laid his head on her chest.

"Sandor?" Sansa mumbled as her eyes finally closed.

With earnest, Sandor's head jerked back up to look at her. "Yea, babe...I'm here. What is it?" A stray tear fell from his eye and dropped to her cheek. Sandor wiped it away with his thumb.

"I love you..." Sansa whispered, her voice beginning to fade as her body succumbed to the drug. _"I'm sorry..."_

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut to stop the flow of his tears, Sandor took her delicate face in his hands. "No...no, don't be sorry. It's ok." He watched as her lips parted with her steady, even breaths that let him know she had fallen asleep. He laid with her for several minutes before joining Margaery and Tormund in the living room.

"Sansa asleep?" Margaery asked as he collapsed onto the cushions next to Tormund.

"Yea."

"Is she going to be ok?" Tormund asked.

"Yes." Margaery insisted. "She just needs some rest." She took her phone from her purse and dialed a number. "Hey Tyrion. Sorry it's late. Yes...yeah that's why I'm calling." After raising herself off the couch, Margaery walked into the kitchen to speak to the headmaster.

Tormund shifted on the couch and patted Sandor's shoulder. "This is some heavy shit, man."

Grimly, Sandor nodded. "Yea."

 _"You_ gonna be ok?"

Sandor glanced at his friend. "Yea. Yea, I'll be all right. Just as long as she is." He groaned as he covered his face with his hands and let them slide down. _"Ughh_...I just hate that man. Don't even know the fucker and I hate his damn guts. _Shit,_ man...what am I going to do if he actually _does_ show up looking for her? That's a possibility I have _got_ to face..."

Tormund heaved a sigh. "Well, I guess you'll have to start carrying your pistol. Hopefully you won't have to use it."

Sandor scoffed. "Yea, then _I'll_ be the one in jail for murder."

Squeezing Sandor's shoulder, Tormund winked at him. "Not if they can't find the body...no body, no crime."

Sandor chucked at the dark thought. "You crazy fucker..."

Margaery returned to the living room. "Well, Sansa won't be going to work tomorrow."

"Is that ok? She just missed a day the other week." Sandor asked.

Smirking, Margaery responded. "Yeah, it's ok...Sansa hardly ever takes days off. Tyrion insisted. Anyway, she will probably be out all night and well into tomorrow." Margaery sat in Tormund's lap and looked at Sandor. "You need to be here when she wakes up. Can you take off tomorrow?"

"Yea, I'm sure it'll be fine. I'll text Beric here in a minute."

"Well, call us if you need anything. We're staying at my place tonight." Margaery told Sandor as she and Tormund headed for the door.

Sandor nodded and said goodbye. Before Margaery shut the door, she stopped and turned to Sandor. She put her hand on his where it rested on the doorframe. "Thank you." She said. "Thank you for loving and looking after her."

"You're welcome. Anything for her."

Margaery smiled in response and turned to follow Tormund to the elevator. Sandor locked the door and blew a sigh from his chest. He gathered the takeout boxes from the coffee table and put them in the refrigerator. Sinking into the couch, he took out his phone to text Beric what had happened. Thankfully, Beric was understanding and told him to stay home and take care of her. Sandor cracked the bedroom door to check on Sansa. Heavy breathing could be heard from where he stood in the doorway. He quietly made his way across the room to turn off the bathroom light. In the commotion earlier, Pierre had retreated under the bed. Sandor knelt down to pull him out. The little dog wriggled in his arms as he lifted him through the air to the bed. Pierre rooted around next to Sansa and nestled himself next to her shoulder. As Sandor stood by the bed, various scenarios flew through his mind. After watching the news story, he knew exactly what Ramsay looked like. The image of the bastard who had abused her would be etched in his mind forever. He knew who to look for in a crowd. From then on, he knew he would always have the possibility of Ramsay showing up in the back of his mind. Getting inebriated while they were out and about was now out of the question. Alcohol dulled the senses and that was a risk Sandor wasn't willing to take when Sansa was counting on him for protection. It took quite a bit of alcohol to render Sandor useless, so it wouldn't be difficult to keep himself in check. Sandor walked into the kitchen to retrieve his cigarettes and lighter he had discarded on the counter. The sliding door to the small balcony creaked as he slid it open and stepped into the warm evening air. Sitting at the tiny outdoor table, he smoked and continued to let thoughts of Ramsay plague his mind. How could someone ever want to lay their hands on such an exquisite woman? Sandor could not fathom the thought. Visions of Ramsay kicking in the door flashed in his brain. In his mind, he would knock the man to the floor and watch while his massive hands squeezed the life out of him as they clenched around his throat. When that portrayal didn't satisfy him enough, he replayed it in his head, only this time he watched as Ramsay bled to death from a slit throat. Sandor gazed out at the skyline as he imagined at least ten different scenarios, all which ended in Ramsay meeting a horrifying fate. What he decided he liked best was the thought of him beating the bastard to death with a golf club. Very fitting, seeing as how he had broken Sansa's ribs with a golf club. The only problem with that was the fact that Sandor wasn't a golfer. In spite of himself, he let a small laugh escape his mouth at the thought of him playing golf. A ridiculous image, indeed. He sighed and gathered the butts of the cigarettes he had smoked and dropped them into a discarded Diet Coke can.

Back inside, he flopped onto the couch and tried to settle his mind by watching tv, but was not very successful. He saw Sansa's phone laying on the coffee table. Cautiously, he checked on Sansa again before reaching for the phone. As he picked it up, he wondered if she still had Ramsay's phone number stored in it. A scene in which he confronted the prick over the phone ran through his head. However, only cowards threatened complete strangers over the phone and Sandor decided that wouldn't do. He scrolled through her contacts anyway, but found nothing. He smiled, though, when he saw the black heart next to his name. Sandor had never been one to snoop through anyone's phone. He trusted Sansa completely, and wasn't looking for anything in particular. Nor was he expecting to find anything out of the ordinary. His curiosity had simply gotten the best of him. He scrolled through the pictures, and sent a few to himself that had been taken at the gala. When he got to the end of her saved pictures, the phone nearly fell from his grip. Several screenshots of diamond rings had recently been saved. Sandor's heart beat faster as he examined each one. Back when he had been with Audrina, the topic of engagement was something they had fought about relentlessly. Audrina had wanted him to settle down right away, and started showing him pictures of rings after only five months of dating. Sandor had resisted angrily, causing heated arguments. It wasn't until a few months before they had split up that he had finally conceded to the idea, making his mind up that no one else would ever want him. How glad he was now that things had ended with her. At the time, the thought had never crossed his mind that he would have been settling with Audrina. This time, instead of provoking anger in him, seeing the rings in Sansa's pictures was intriguing to him. Even a bit exciting. The thought of her actually wanting to marry him was a thrilling notion. _She wants to marry me..._ Oddly enough, Sandor wanted her to want to marry him. He was marginally surprised at himself that he wasn't balking at these ideas. In Sandor's mind, it just couldn't possibly get any better than her, and the sudden thoughts of marriage only fueled the desperate desire he already had to keep her safe. The irony of the situation was that the pictures Sansa had saved were from the same company Audrina had picked her ring from. Valyrian Jewelers in downtown King's Landing. Sandor didn't know much about rings, but from what he could tell, Sansa had a more refined taste than Audrina had. The rings Sansa had saved had a large, sort of a rounded square diamond in the middle, with a row of tiny diamonds surrounding it. The delicately thin bands that the main stones sat on also were encrusted with diamonds. There wasn't much difference between the rings from what Sandor could see, but they all must have had some distinct variations for Sansa to have saved several. If there was anything Sandor was balking at, it was the price of these rings. He made good money at his job, and still had the majority of his inheritance saved. Finding the money to purchase one wouldn't be a problem. But as any man would, Sandor rolled his eyes at the outrageous price tags. Paying several thousand dollars for something so small was crazy. However, with this relationship, there were no pros and cons to weigh to decide if proposing would be a good idea. The only thing he would have to do is convince himself to fork out a small fortune for a symbol of his love. Against his better judgment, Sandor also sent all the ring pictures to his phone. He then deleted the messages to himself from Sansa's phone to hide the evidence.

In her large, soft bed, Sansa hadn't moved a muscle. Sandor stripped himself down beside the bed and eased himself down next to her. She moaned quietly, but remained asleep as he rolled her to her side and spooned his body close to hers. Pierre growled and groaned at the inconvenience of being nudged from his place and stomped his feet down to the foot of the bed. _I could do this,_ Sandor thought as he held Sansa. He could really see himself settling down with this woman who had captivated him. Getting to spend every night falling asleep with her in his arms, and waking up each morning to her beautiful face was a reward any man would vie fiercely for. But Sansa wanted him and no one else. Sansa made Sandor feel like he was _worth_ wanting. The realization provoked a warm prickly feeling that permeated every inch of his body. Sandor laced his fingers through hers and fell asleep with pleasant thoughts of a long, happy life with Sansa drifting through his mind.

It surprised Sandor the next morning when he woke to an empty bed. He sat upright quickly and glanced around. The clock next to her side of the bed read 9:14. Jumping out of bed, Sandor hoped she hadn't tried to go to work today. The smells from the kitchen stopped him and told him she was home. He smiled as he bent to retrieve a pair of sweatpants he had been keeping in the bottom drawer of her dresser. Before joining Sansa in the kitchen, Sandor brushed his teeth and ran her brush through his hair. Standing in front of the stove, wearing nothing but one of his white t-shirts was Sansa. A spatula was in one of her hands, tending to some pancakes on a griddle. Her long, shapely legs protruded form the bottom of the shirt and she had pulled her hair up into a messy bun on top of her head. Pierre was sitting at her feet, a string of drool hanging from his lips as he watched Sansa flip the pancakes. Instantly loving what he saw, Sandor approached her quietly from behind and wrapped his arms around her body. "Good morning."

Sansa jumped at the feeling of his arms around her. She turned in his embrace to face him. Sadness was still evident on her face. "Sandor..."

Putting a finger to her lips to stop her, Sandor said, "It's ok, babe."

Sansa shook his finger away and fought back her tears. "No, it's not ok..."

Cutting her off, Sandor threw his head back and moaned. He dropped his hands from her waist and reached them up to run through his hair. _"Sansa,_ enough of this..."

"Can I please speak?!"

The shrillness of her question silenced Sandor. He rolled his head back down to listen.

"The way I treated you last night is what's not ok." Her blue eyes darted back and forth between his. "I am so sorry. Gods, I am _humiliated._ I'm sorry I acted so horribly to you when you were only trying to help." Realizing her anguish, Sandor wrapped his arms around her once more and buried his face in the crook of her neck. "I don't know what I was thinking, I'm so sorry I hit you. _Shit,_ I hit you! How could I?!"

"You were having some sort of panic attack, Sansa. People do crazy things when they are stressed as much as you are. I know you'd never do something like that in normal circumstances." He leaned his forehead down to make contact with hers. "Besides, I've had much worse done to me in a fight before." He couldn't help but smirk, remembering the black eye Audrina had given him during one of their heated arguments.

"Will you forgive me?" Sansa pleaded as she gazed up at him.

"I already have."

Sansa smiled and inclined her face up to kiss him. She savored the way his coarse facial hair tickled her delicate skin. "Well, I hope you're hungry. I made pancakes, bacon and fried eggs." She motioned to the plates of food already laid out on the island. Sandor handed her the plate on pancakes so she could remove the ones that were ready on the griddle. "There's coffee, too."

Those three words were his second favorite thing to hear from Sansa's mouth. Hearing his stomach growling, Sandor smiled. "Thanks, babe. This looks great."

Still humiliated about her behavior the night before, Sansa joined him at the kitchen table in the breakfast nook. She hoped her gesture of fixing breakfast would make up for her horrific treatment of the man she loved. As she sipped her coffee, she watched Sandor devour a stack of pancakes, three eggs, and several slices of bacon. Not trusting him had never been an issue for her. Last night, though, she had made it seem like she didn't trust Sandor to keep her safe. She deeply lamented her actions and made herself a vow to make every attempt she could to move forward with her life. Her relationship with Sandor was far too precious for it to be ruined by a past tragedy. Sandor and Margaery had both been right. If she was to continue to let her fear get the best of her, Ramsay would win. A man such as him did not deserve that satisfaction. It surprised Sansa that Sandor insisted on cleaning up the slight mess she had made in the kitchen. They made love that morning in the kitchen. Sandor laid Sansa back against the kitchen table and built her slowly to a pleasurable climax that left her feeling limp and satisfied.

Friday morning at work, Sandor disclosed to Beric what he had found on Sansa's phone. Beric narrowed his eyes in confusion at Sandor as he described how he had felt when he saw the rings. Sure, Sandor had told Beric lots of things that had happened in the past, but how he felt about them was something Sandor usually skipped right over. Dumbfounded, Beric listened as Sandor gave him a detailed description of his thoughts on the matter. Being a far better brother to Sandor than Gregor had ever been, Sandor valued Beric's reaction.

"And you're completely ok with all this shit this time around...? No freaking out, no fighting, no running away screaming?" Beric asked, bewildered. Having been the recipient of copious details of Sandor and Audrina's arguments, Beric was a little more than skeptical. "Isn't it a little soon?"

Sandor scoffed at Beric. "Well I'm not going to fucking propose tomorrow. I'm just telling you because of how different the situation with Sansa is from Audrina."

"Have you two _talked_ about it?"

Shrugging and lighting a cigarette, Sandor replied. "I mean, we have both made little comments here and there about how we don't ever want to be without each other. The word _forever_ has been thrown around." He tossed the pack of cigarettes to Beric, who was motioning for them. "Just stuff like that."

Wide eyed, all Beric could do was stare.

"Let's hear it." Sandor growled as he pocketed his pack of cigarettes Beric had thrown back at him. "What sort of snide comments do you have for me?"

In defense, Beric held his hands up. "Nothing, man! It's just..." he paused to take a drag of his cigarette and rubbed his short beard. "It's just that this is a complete 180 from how you were with Audrina. When you first told me she had mentioned getting engaged, all you could say was _'fuck that, fuck her, fuck a damn ring, fuck a wedding,'_ and now you're all... _'I don't even know how much I'm supposed to spend on a ring.'_ Very unlike you."

Sandor glared at Beric. He knew he sounded absolutely insane. "It's not going to happen anytime soon, I can assure you that. Shit, it's just something to think about." He scuffed his cigarette out with his heavy work boot. "I can tell you, though...I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Well it's certainly not a bad thing to think about." When he saw the concern on Sandor's face, he searched for the right words to say. "Look, it's just shocking is all." He clapped a hand on Sandor's shoulder. "But I'm happy for you, man. I really am. If there's anyone who deserves some happiness in this fucked up world it's you." Sandor rewarded Beric's sentiments with a small smile. "Fuck, I'll even be your best man."

His comment provoked a laugh from Sandor.

"All right, enough of this mushy shit...we've got work to do." Beric turned back to the engine he was calibrating. With a sideways smile on his face, Sandor followed suit with the truck in his own work bay.

That afternoon, Sansa and Margaery made good on their promise to Thoros to visit his yoga studio for a hot yoga class. A large brazier in the center of the room added to the heat from hot rocks that were being spritzed with water to produce steam. It was similar to being in a sauna. The heat almost took Sansa's breath away as the girls stepped into the room. "Welcome, ladies!" They heard Thoros' smooth voice beckon them to the front of the room. "So glad you could join me for _Fire Goddess..._ " He added, dramatically as he struck a gong next to his mat.

Margaery giggled as they unrolled their mats a few feet away from the platform where Thoros stood. "I'm going to pass out for sure..." Sansa told Margaery as she sat facing Thoros. Sweat was already beginning to saturate the thin fabric of her tank top and leggings.

The 90 minute session was strenuous and grueling. Having been a practicer of yoga for years, Sansa was familiar with the poses and their purpuses. The heat in the room was intense, but Sansa thoroughly enjoyed every minute. It allowed her to focus on her body and clear her mind for the time being. When the class was over, Sansa and Margaery vowed to Thoros they would be back for regular classes. Pleased with how much they liked the class, Thoros smiled warmly and thanked them for coming.

Over the next few weeks, Sansa settled into a comfortable routine with Sandor. They mostly stayed at her place, although they spent some nights on the weekend at Sandor's. Nights when Sansa had to work the next morning were always spent at her apartment, as Sandor was weary about Sansa leaving his place to go anywhere he wasn't accompanying her. Sansa didn't mind. To her, it didn't feel like Sandor was being overprotective or controlling. Time with Sandor was something she craved as she craved her favorite food. Always welcome, and the desire for more was always present. Once the school year ended for Sansa, she coerced Sandor into helping her move the furniture in her classroom out into the hallway so the floors could be waxed during the summer. Sansa made an effort to be useful, but Sandor and Tormund insisted on doing it all. Margaery had convinced Tormund to help as well. During a break, Tormund got a phone call from an event planner in Maidenpool. He stayed on the phone for several minutes while Sansa, Sandor and Margaery drank from the soft drink bottles they had gotten from the vending machine in the teacher's lounge.

After hanging up the phone, Tormund slapped his knees and rose. "Well, we have been booked to play in Maidenpool this weekend." Tormund winked at Sandor. "Hope your schedule is clear, because it'll pay really good."

"What's the gig?"

"The Mooton Casino is hosting some sort of party. They said sorry for short notice, but the band they had booked bailed on them and we were the second choice." Tormund stretched and popped his back. "Hey, I'll be second choice for an all expenses paid weekend at the casino! They'll reimburse us for gas and everything."

Hearing this, Margaery's face brightened. "Well can we come too? Why don't we make a trip of it?!" She nudged Sansa with her elbow.

Tormund maneuvered his way between Sansa and Margaery and put an arm around each as he looked at Sandor. "How can we say no?"

Sandor laughed. "I know someone who could use a vacation." He said, smiling at Sansa. A vacation did sound good to Sansa, even if it was only for the weekend. Summer grad school classes didn't start for another two weeks and it would be the perfect start to their summer break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's to a weekend getaway! May everything go according to plan...


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo-hoo! Casino vacation in Maidenpool! Let's see what happens, shall we?!

 

It had been a while, well over a year since Sansa had taken any sort of trip. Even if it was only for a short weekend, the girls were overly excited and planned a shopping trip the Thursday before they left. Sandor had given Sansa the pistol. He had even taken her to a shooting range so she could get used to firing it. Turns out, she was very good, and didn't need much practice, thanks to the training her sister had given her, and the course she had taken to become certified to carry a concealed weapon. Before she started carrying it, Sandor had taken special care in showing her how to load it and put the safety on. The extra weight of the gun in her bag wasn't a burden. Sansa liked knowing she was armed against the possibility of Ramsay showing up and becoming hostile. It sat in it's thick leather holster in her Kate Spade purse.

The pair tried on dress after dress until they found ones they liked that complimented their figures and accentuated their long legs. Margaery settled on a short red dress with bell sleeves. Sansa chose a black sequined mini dress that showed off her back with a large cut out. New shoes and jewelry were added to their bags as they roamed through the mall. They came to a stop in front of a high end lingerie boutique.

"Shall we?" Margaery asked with a smirk.

Remembering how much Sandor had liked her garter belt and stockings she wore the night of the gala, Sansa grinned. "You going to help me pick something out?" She asked as they pushed the door open.

"Of course." Margaery replied as they began to look around. "We'll find something that will make Sandor fall to his knees and beg for you to be his _wife."_

Sheepishly, Sansa scoffed at the idea. But Margaery interjected. "Oh come on, every woman thinks about it, no matter how long they've been with their man." She pulled several outfits off nearby racks for them to consider. "You _have_ thought about it? Haven't you?" Margaery handed her a sheer black bra.

As she held her hand up behind the material of the garment, Sansa shrugged. "Well, yes I have thought about it. But it's a little soon for the marriage talk, don't you think?"

Margaery shrugged. "I think it's good to date with an end game in mind. If that's not something one of you wants, but the other does, it won't work out and you're just wasting your time." Margaery turned to Sansa. "Is that something you want? To marry him?"

"Of course it is." Sansa insisted. "I've never loved anyone the way I love him. He's definitely a keeper."

With wide eyed excitement, Margaery grasped her friend's arms. "Have you guys talked about it already?!"

Sansa laughed and headed for the dressing room. "I mean, not _marriage._..but we've talked about forever in a roundabout way." She filled Margaery in on what she and Sandor had talked about pertaining to their future. Margaery listened as she disappeared behind the curtain to change. She came out wearing a tight black corset with fishnet hose. _"Wow..."_ Sansa gaped, open mouthed at her friend.

Margaery grinned and did a slow twirl in front of the mirror, paying attention to how she looked from behind. "Yes...I think this will do _nicely."_

Sandor and Beric took off early Friday to leave for Maidenpool. Beric's parents had agreed to keep Pierre for the weekend while everyone was away. Thoros and Beric were going to drive the van with all their equipment while the other four rode in Sansa's Lexus SUV.

"All this for one weekend?" Sandor asked as he hoisted Sansa and Margaery's bags into the back of Sansa's car.

"Hey, there are expensive shoes in there!" Margaery protested as Sandor unceremoniously dumped her suitcase on top of Sansa's. Sansa couldn't help but smirk, thinking about the naughty red outfit that has hidden away in the bottom of her own suitcase. Margaery had talked her into buying a lacy bra and thong set with sheer see through parts. She had assured Sansa it would make Sandor _drool_. She had managed to keep it hidden from Sandor for the past few days, but she was dying to put it on for him. Saturday night, she figured after they played would be the perfect opportunity.

As Sandor maneuvered Sansa's car through the streets of King's Landing to the Kingsroad Highway, Margaery whispered with Sansa in the backseat. Inspired by their talk in the lingerie boutique the other day, Margaery had had her own talk with Tormund on the topic of _forever._ The men in the front seat had the music turned up loud, so Margaery wasn't too worried about being heard.

"So then Tormund said _'Well I'm not just dating you for fun...'_ he actually seemed a little surprised that I had even asked him if he saw that for us." She grinned excitedly at Sansa, who squeezed her hand. Every now and then, Sansa snuck nervous glances at Sandor in the front seat, worried that he could hear what they were talking about. It didn't seem like he was listening, so she pulled out her phone to show Margaery the pictures of the rings that she had saved. Margaery _ooohed_ and _aaahed_ at every picture.

By the end of the two and a half hour drive, Sansa and Margaery had fallen asleep in the back seat. Margaery had wedged her pillow between her head and the window. Sandor took a look in the rear view mirror at Sansa. She was fast asleep on Margaery's shoulder. He smiled as he gripped the steering wheel. Little did Sansa know, he had heard bits and pieces of Sansa's conversation with Margaery. As he pulled into the entrance of the casino, he thought _maybe I should ask her if that's what Sansa hopes for us_. He already knew it was something Sansa had wanted after seeing the rings on her phone. Still suffering from insecurity every now and then, Sandor wanted to hear Sansa say it. It wouldn't be a bad idea to let her know it was definitely something he wanted one day as well. Not today, but one day. Now he just had to think of a smooth way of easing into that tricky conversation. Once he put the car in park and shut off the engine, Sandor reached into the backseat and squeezed Sansa's knee.

"Wake up...we're here."

Sansa sat up in the seat and stretched as she looked out the window. The Mooton Casino was a huge establishment and the twenty story hotel that jutted up behind it was just as elaborate. They had been given the four bedroom penthouse suite that had been secured for the original band. Sansa gawked as she glanced around.

Sandor set their bags down at her feet. "We have to go back downstairs to unload our equipment and meet with the event planner. Shouldn't take too long. Pick us out a good room." He told her with a wink and a kiss.

Once the men had left the suite, Margaery turned to Sansa. "Let's look around!" She said excitedly. The suite was enormous. A huge balcony that stretched the entire length boasted a spectacular view of the Bay of Crabs. Each room had its own adjoining bathroom and was equipped with a large, plush king size bed. All of the rooms were similarly decorated in an old-world ornate style. Massive chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings and the bedspreads were a silky red material. As Sansa was dragging her and Sandor's bags into the room she had chosen, she heard the loud pop of a champagne bottle from the kitchen. Margaery handed her a flute of champagne when she made her way back into the greatroom.

"Cheers, darling." Margaery said as she clinked her glass with Sansa's.

"Here's to a good, fun weekend." Sansa stated before taking a gulp from the glass. The girls settled onto the large, leather sectional in the living room to chat and drink their champagne. "What time did the boys say they would be back up here?" Sansa wondered out loud.

Margaery shrugged as she got up to retrieve the bottle of champagne from the kitchen. "No idea. But I guess they'll want for us to be ready whenever they get back up here. _Gods forbid_ we make them wait." Earlier when they had been ushered through the lobby by the bellhop, Sandor and Tormund had expressed their desire to hit up the blackjack tables later that night. Margaery of course insisted on going to the casino's nightclub, Minotaur. Sansa was up for whatever, having never been to a casino before. "I guess we better go get showers and get ready for when they get back." Margaery commented as she filled their glasses up again.

Sansa unpacked what she needed from her suitcase and hung the dresses that she had brought in the closet. The bag with her lingerie caught her eye in the bottom corner of her bag. She took it and the red heels she had brought to wear with the outfit and hid them behind a tall stack of extra towels under the sink. There were plenty of towels in the bathroom already, so Sansa wasn't too worried about Sandor finding the surprise outfit. Sansa noted the size of the shower as she stepped into it and turned the water on hot. It was plenty big for Sandor and herself, should they decide to take a shower together sometime during the weekend. She allowed herself to imagine how Sandor would go about making love to her in a shower. The thought was still fresh in her mind when she heard a knock at the door.

"Hey it's me." Sandor announced as he opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. He paused after he closed and locked the door to enjoy the view of Sansa in the shower. He liked the deep red color that her hair turned when it was wet. Sansa's perfect, womanly figure could be seen through the glass shower door. Her naked body glistened as the water trickled down her skin. It made his dick grow hard in his jeans. "Can I join you?"

Sansa's skin was already pink from the heat of the water. When she heard his question, she flushed a deeper shade. "Of course..."

Grinning wickedly, Sandor was out of his clothes in an instant. He opened the shower door just wide enough for him to get through and stepped inside. Sansa had already washed her hair and was lathering up her body when Sandor maneuvered his way behind her. He rested his chin on her shoulder and watched as she sponged the shower loofah across her naked breasts, leaving a trail of soapy bubbles behind. Sandor's hands glided up her hips to her slick breasts. He took one in each hand and squeezed them together as he caressed her slippery skin.

 _"Mmmmmm..."_ Sansa moaned as she let her head fall back on Sandor's shoulder. He worked her nipples through his fingers, tweaking each firmly before reaching further down. Sansa gasped at the sensation.

"Spread your legs for me..." Sandor growled into her ear. Sansa did as she was told and was rewarded with the feeling of his calloused fingers ghosting over her already swollen clit. As he circled his fingers around the tender flesh, Sansa reached her hands up to grasp the back of Sandor's neck. She felt his shaft harden completely as it pressed into the small of her back. Sandor spun her around and lifted her in one smooth motion. Grabbing her ass, he hoisted her off the floor and pressed her back to the wall of the shower. The cool tile was slick from being wet, but Sandor's weight kept her firmly in place. He positioned the head of his cock between her legs and slid her hips down. Sansa cried out when she felt him penetrate her fully.

 _"Shhhh!"_ Sandor hissed before covering her mouth with his. "Do you want everyone else to hear you?!"

Hungry for a release, Sansa grasped the back of Sandor's head and gazed at him with lust in her eyes. "I don't care..." she insisted. Upon hearing this, Sandor growled and pushed in harder, causing Sansa to cry out again and again with each thrust. She wrapped her legs around Sandor's waist and clung to his shoulders as he slid her up and down the wall, sending her into a quick oblivion. A loud moan escaped Sandor's throat as his climax came seconds after hers, brought on by the rhythmic clenching of her tight walls. Their lips found each other's as they let the waves of pleasure wash over them. When their bodies had stopped jerking and twitching in response to their orgasms, Sandor gently set Sansa back on the shower floor. He laughed as she braced against him on wobbly legs.

"Did you enjoy that, little bird?"

Breathless, Sansa nodded. "Yes. Definitely something we should do more often." She was finding it hard to temper her sexual desire for Sandor. The more Sandor gave her, the more Sansa found herself wanting to experience him in every way, everywhere.

The short metallic silver dress that Sansa had picked out to wear that night earned her a low, astonished gasp from Sandor. Having been ready almost half an hour before her, Sandor was laying on the bed, idly scrolling through his phone. He rolled his head towards the bathroom door as he heard it open. Her already long legs looked even longer with the black heels she had paired with the dress. Margaery had curled her hair and swept it into a low side pony tail. Wavy wisps of hair framed her face and her eyes were shadowed dark.

"Do you like it?" Sansa asked as she held her arms out and spun slowly for him.

Sandor beckoned her towards him with a finger before swinging his legs to the floor. He grasped her hips as Sansa positioned himself between his knees. "I'm going to have to keep a close eye on every asshole around tonight. They're not going to be able to take their eyes off of you."

"Well then you'll have to keep _your hands_ on me so they all know who I belong to."

Sandor let a hand slide up Sansa's thigh to the inside of her dress. "Oh that won't be a problem..." At that moment, Sandor had never felt so satisfied in a relationship. Hearing Sansa say that she belonged to him made his heart skip a beat. It was already a known fact, but he still loved hearing her say the words. He was just about to bring up the topic he had been wanting to ask her about when Beric knocked on the door.

"Break it up, you two...we're starving!"

Realizing Beric had no doubt heard them

in the shower earlier, Sansa giggled as Sandor withdrew his hand from her dress and rose to his feet.

Downstairs, as they walked through the casino to the restaurant, Sansa could feel people staring. She couldn't pinpoint who exactly they were staring at. They were all a rather eclectic group indeed. They were bound to draw attention with Sandor, whose scars and towering height made him an intimidating sight to behold, Beric with his black eyepatch and hair spiked into a short mohawk, and Thoros who had his usual topknot and giant gauged ear piercings. Then of course there was Tormund with his wild red hair and beard to match, who had Margaery on his arm in a short, black strapless romper that left little to the imagination. Sandor kept Sansa's hand firmly gripped in his as they made their way across the casino floor. There were beautiful women all around, but Sandor noticed men's heads turning and following Sansa as she walked by. Tormund turned to Sandor as he pointed to a nearby table.

"That's where we'll be later, Clegane!" He shouted over the commotion of the casino. He was pointing to a table where blackjack was being dealt.

Sandor laughed and tipped his chin up at Tormund. "Feel like losing some money tonight, do you?"

"Nooo...I'm feeling _lucky!"_ Tormund howled in response as he gripped Margaery firmly on the ass. She squealed in protest, but did little to stop him.

They ate at the fancy buffet in the casino. It boasted hundreds of different types of food, and was famous for its fresh seafood. They ate plate after plate of crab legs, oysters, and shrimp, along with several various sides and breads. At dinner, Sandor stuck with water. He knew he would eventually be drinking lots of beer later on that night and didn't want to get drunk too early. Being with his friends, there was no telling how late they would stay up. With the Bolton bastard hundreds of miles away in King's Landing, Sandor wasn't too worried about a surprise appearance from him, but he knew he had to be ready for anything. As they left the restaurant to enter the casino once again, Sansa got a better look at her surroundings. Large, gothic looking chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Stone gargoyles were perched at the top of thick stone pillars which were placed at regular intervals around the massive room. The high, dark ceilings and dark carpet added to the dim atmosphere. There was plenty of light though. Each table had its own lamp to allow the dealer to see better, and the flashing lights from hundreds of noisy slot machines made it easy to see. All around, people were boisterously betting on the cards in their hands, and laughing as they pulled levers on slot machine.

"I'm going to go to the blackjack table. You wanna come?" Sandor asked Sansa as the group mingled around, trying to decide where they all wanted to go.

Wanting to give him some time with his friends, Sansa shook her head and grinned as she out her arms around Sandor's waist. "I think Margaery and I are going to go try our luck with the slot machines."

Sandor brushed a tendril of hair away from her face and let his hand linger on the soft skin. "Ok. Please be careful, babe."

"Yes, you two stay together!" Tormund ordered before covering Margaery's mouth with a kiss.

"We will." Margaery insisted as she hooked her arm through Sansa's. Sansa blew Sandor a kiss over her shoulder as she and Margaery picked their way through the crowd.

Sandor took a seat at a blackjack table with Tormund and Thoros. Beric had gone off in search of a woman he knew from Maidenpool who had wanted to meet up with him. Sandor was a big fan of any place where you could smoke openly and drink for cheap, and at this casino, he could do just that. He forked out a fifty dollar bill to be dealt in the game and lit a cigarette. The dealer handed him a stack of chips. A waitress in a tight, black uniform that showed her midsection and more than enough cleavage stopped by the table.

"What are ya drinkin?" She asked the men with a smile.

Thoros and Tormund each ordered shots of whiskey and a beer. Sandor declined the shot and ordered a beer.

"Comin' your way, sweetheart!" The waitress said, pushing her chest out for Sandor to admire. He glanced at the woman with lackluster and gritted his teeth together. The brass name tag on her large chest read _Sonya._ She had dull brown hair and a face that was decent, but far too plain to even compare to Sansa's. Her skin was tanned and splotchy, as if she had laid in the sun without protection for too many years. Sandor grunted and turned back to the game. After several consecutive rounds, Sandor found himself ahead of where he started, already being up two hundred dollars. The waitress came and went with drink after drink for the men. Each time, she lingered around Sandor, hoping for more attention than he was willing to give her. Over and over, she was disappointed, however when Sandor did little to acknowledge her presence besides ordering another round.

When Sansa and Margaery had found a pair of empty chairs at the penny slot machines, they sat down excitedly. Margaery showed Sansa the ins and outs of playing the slots and Sansa caught on quickly. They laughed and gasped and clapped their hands as the pictures on the screen changed. Sansa was enjoying her first time at a casino immensely, and was glad she had Margaery there with her. It wasn't long before they were approached by a pair of men. The taller one, who had his black hair spiked with gel spoke to them first.

"Hey ladies...can we buy you a drink?" Timidly, Sansa stole a glance at the man. He was not ugly, by any means, but even if she had been a single woman, he would not be the kind of man Sansa would go for. She smirked and turned back to her slot machine.

Unphased by their presence, Margaery never once looked up. "No, we're good."

The other, a short blonde with bulging muscles laughed. "Oh come on, one drink?"

Sighing, Margaery turned to Sansa. "Sansa, would you like for these men to buy us drinks?"

Sansa purposefully wrinkled her nose at the pair. "No thank you."

Satisfied with Sansa's answer, Margaery turned her head towards the men again. "We said, no thank you." She fluttered her fingers in front of her. "Ta-ta, now!" The men mumbled something incoherent and stalked away. They did order drinks later when a pretty blonde waitress stopped by.

"Two dirty martinis, please. Three olives." Margaery said as the waitress jotted down their order. Over the next two hours, Sansa and Margaery made their way around the room, trying out different games without much luck. They didn't mind, though. They were satisfied just to sit and laugh, and drink martini after martini while enjoying each other's company. After a while, Margaery thought it wise to go and check on the men. Sansa offered, needing to stretch her legs after sitting for so long.

As Sansa walked towards the blackjack table where Sandor, Tormund and Thoros sat, she saw a scantily clad waitress approaching the table with a tray full of drinks. The waitress deposited the drinks around the table, leaving Sandor's for last. After she placed his beer in front of him, she brought her hand up to rub on his massive shoulder. Her mouth was whispering words she couldn't hear. Shocked at what she was seeing, Sansa paused before continuing her approach. She had not been seen by the group of men yet and wanted to keep it that way. Never taking her eyes off Sandor, she eased herself casually behind a column. Sandor acknowledged the waitress by shoving a five dollar bill at her, but kept his head and body turned towards the table. Sansa's shock turned to worry, and then to anger as she watched the waitress lean down to kiss Sandor on the cheek. Her enormous breasts pushed against his shoulder as she leaned. Sandor countered the waitress by leaning slightly the other way, but did nothing else to make it known he was not interested. Frozen in place, Sansa stayed hidden next to the stone pillar she had stepped behind. Rage flushed her skin crimson as Sansa's pulse quickened. The waitress had pulled herself back upright, seemingly waiting for a response from Sandor. A breath of relief shot out of Sansa's chest when he gave the waitress no further acknowledgement. The waitress turned and rolled her eyes as she shoved the money into her apron pocket and walked away to tend to other casino patrons. Sansa stayed by the stone column, not knowing what to do. Pride hurt, part of her wanted to storm over to Sandor and make a scene by demanding an explanation. _How could he let that woman just kiss him like that?!_ She thought angrily. Instead, she stormed away and found Margaery where she had left her at the penny slots.

"Some waitress just kissed Sandor!" Sansa exclaimed as she flooped into the chair next to Margaery.

Margaery pulled the machine's lever down and whipped her head towards Sansa. "What?!"

Exasperated, Sansa repeated herself.

"Where did she kiss him?"

"On the cheek."

Margaery waved her hand. "Oh darling, I'm sure it's nothing, take a look around at these women. These skanks will do _anything_ to get better tips."

Huffing and crossing her arms, Sansa glanced around. Margaery was right. There were waitresses all over the casino who were letting men touch them, sitting in their laps, doing everything short of stripping for them right there on the casino floor all in the attempt to earn more tips. "Yea, but it's just the fact that he didn't do anything to stop her."

"Did he touch her?"

"No."

"Did he kiss her back?"

_"No!"_

Pulling the lever on her slot machine again, Margaery said, "Then you don't have anything to worry about." She watched as the pictures rolled by. "Are you going to tell him you saw?"

Sansa shrugged. "I don't know, should I?"

 _"I_ wouldn't. But that's just me. This is you though, and I know if you don't ask Sandor about it, you'll stew and stew on it all night and get even more pissed off than you already are." With a raise of her eyebrows, Margaery turned back to the game.

Margaery had Sansa pegged, alright. That was exactly what Sansa would have done if she hadn't confronted Sandor about it. She had never been one to just let things slide, and although it probably was in fact, nothing, she knew she deserved an explanation.

Once Sansa got back to the blackjack table, Sandor and the others were gone. Her eyes darted around as she searched the nearby tables. Sandor nor the pushy waitress were anywhere to be seen. Their absence was unnerving to Sansa and she momentarily allowed herself to assume the worst. A deep voice from behind startled her. "Come here often?"

Whirling around, Sansa came nose to nose with Sandor. "Hey! Where were you? I was looking for you."

"I went to find you. Margaery said you had come to find me, so I'm back where I started." Sandor put an arm around her and drew her in for a kiss. When she didn't kiss him back with much enthusiasm, he wrinkled his brow. "You ok?"

Suddenly chickening out from asking him what the deal with the waitress was, Sansa just nodded her head. "Yea, I'm just tired is all."

Sandor pulled out his phone and checked the time. It was past midnight. "You ready to go upstairs?"

Sansa nodded again and let Sandor lead her across the casino to the elevators. Her hand was limp in his and she kept distance between their bodies as they walked. Five or ten minutes later, when they made it up to their room, Sandor could tell something was definitely wrong. Sansa had stood, silent and poker-faced with her arms crossed in the elevator and refused to allow Sandor to help her take her dress off. Sansa had then flung her dress and shoes in a pile on the floor, instead of stowing them neatly. Losing his patience, Sandor stood in the bathroom doorway as Sansa wiped her eye makeup off with a frown on her face. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or are you going to just sulk for the rest of the night?"

"I'm fine."

"Someone who is _fine_ doesn't stand there and pout. Tell me what's wrong."

Sansa tossed her makeup wipe into the wastebasket and brushed past him into the bedroom. "Why don't you ask that waitress downstairs."

"What waitress?"

Sansa rolled her eyes as she snatched her pajamas out of her suitcase. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about." She spat back.

"I can assure you, I don't."

Anger flashed in Sansa's eyes as she whipped around to face him. "Ugghh! The one that _kissed you._ Kissed you on the cheek!" Sandor stared back at her, open mouthed. "I saw her kiss you at the blackjack table! Don't you _dare_ tell me that she didn't!"

Sandor groaned and let his head fall back. He covered his face with his hands. "Gods, _that's_ what you're upset about?!"

"Why wouldn't I be upset about another woman kissing you?!"

Laughter rolled from Sandor's chest. "You're mad because some slutty waitress kissed me on the _cheek?!"_

Appalled that he was laughing, Sansa stomped her foot. "I'm mad because you didn't do _anything to stop her!_ You sat there and _let her!"_

 _"Gods,_ I was playing cards! Fuck, Sansa...what was I supposed to so? Get up and slap her in the face?! Did I kiss her back? No! I didn't even look at her!" Sandor sighed and sank to the bed. The bed creaked in response to his weight. "This is ridiculous, Sansa. She probably just wanted to squeeze a few more bucks out of me, that's all. Fuck, I really don't know why you're so upset. I've had to put up with men undressing you with their eyes all damn night!"

Furious, Sansa scoffed louder than necessary and rolled her eyes. _"Right.._.like you wouldn't go _insane_ if one of them kissed me on the fucking cheek?!" She threw her pajamas at him and crossed her arms defiantly against her chest.

Sandor ducked out of the way as the clothes flew across the room at him. A dark look appeared on his face. He stood and crossed the room to where Sansa stood. He loomed over her and spoke slowly, trying to control his anger. "I'm going back downstairs. Call me when you're ready to talk about this like adults." He grabbed his room keys before he opened the bedroom door and paused. "Lock this door behind me."

Sansa slammed the door and turned the lock. Beyond enraged, she collapsed onto the bed and snatched the covers around her body. _I'm not fucking calling him..._ she thought angrily. Besides throwing her clothes at him and stomping her feet like a two year old, Sansa felt like she had done nothing wrong by asking him about it. She had every right to be upset and besides, he had not even apologized to her. For a long while, Sansa tossed and turned. The king size hotel bed felt huge and cold without Sandor there to hold her. She debated on calling Margaery, but decided she didn't want to interrupt her night with Tormund. When 1:30 rolled around and Sandor still wasn't back, Sansa climbed out of the bed and reached for the doorknob. Remembering she was sharing this suite with others, Sansa gathered her t-shirt and sleep shorts she had thrown at Sandor and dressed herself. She poked around in the refrigerator and found some orange juice. As she poured herself a glass, she heard a key in the front door. Her heart pounded, wondering if it was Sandor. A woman's laugh told her otherwise. She peeked around the corner and watched Beric and a woman she didn't recognize stumble through the door. The woman had her hands around Beric's waist as she kissed his neck. Sansa cleared her throat to announce herself.

Startled, Beric looked up. "Oh, hey Sansa, I figured you guys were asleep." He said as he shut the door. "This is Lola."

Lola giggled and stuck her hand out. "Nice to meet you, Sansa." Lola had raven black hair that was styled into a short, spiky pixie cut. Her face was pretty and feminine, with high cheekbones and large hazel eyes.

Sansa gave Beric and Lola a curious smile as she shook the woman's hand. Beric laughed and scratched the back of his neck. "Pleasure to meet you, Lola." Sansa put the orange juice carton back in the refrigerator. The pair began to quickly move across the room. Sansa stopped Beric sheepishly. "Um, Beric?"

Beric paused at his door, Lola pressing into him with earnest. "Yea?"

"Did you see Sandor down there, by any chance?"

Beric patted Lola on the bottom. "I'll be in in a minute, doll." Lola kissed him on the lips and disappeared through the bedroom door. Beric walked back into the kitchen. "No, I thought he came back up here with you."

Sansa's face fell as she swirled the orange juice around in her glass.

"Everything ok?"

Sansa pulled herself onto a tall stool at the counter diving the kitchen from the living room. "Well, no...not really."

Beric perched himself on the stool next to her. "You wanna talk about it?"

Uncertainty tugged the corner of her mouth down. "I saw some waitress kiss Sandor on the cheek and it made me mad. It made me even more mad when Sandor laughed about it and acted like it wasn't a big deal."

Beric rose from the counter to pour himself his own glass of orange juice. He gave Sansa a queer look when he heard her mention the waitress. "Oh Gods, that ol girl?! Sansa, darling...you're worried about that?" Beric put the juice back in the refrigerator and joined Sansa again at the counter. "She did the same thing to Thoros when I was over there for a quick visit." He paused to gulp from his glass. "I have known Sandor for a long time. And he is a lot of things...but unfaithful is not one them. Sandor would never want to do anything to hurt you on purpose."

Considering carefully what Beric was telling her, Sansa marginally regretted the extent of her temper tantrum. "Well I still wish he would have done something to stop her."

"Look...Sandor is crazy about you. Never seen him this way with a woman before. I just about had a heart attack when he told me the other week about wanting to marry you-"

Startled, Sansa jerked her head towards Beric. _"What?!"_

Realizing he probably shouldn't have said what he had just did, Beric froze. "Uh...what?"

"What did he say about wanting to marry me?!"

"Oooh shit...well guess I _am_ a little drunk right now. Just the other week, Sandor told me he was going to talk to you about that soon...guess he hasn't yet."

Dumbfounded, Sansa shook her head.

"Well, when he does, act surprised. Don't you dare tell him I said anything about it. He'll gouge my other eye out." Beric finished his orange juice and rose to put his glass in the sink. "No shit, Sansa...please don't say anything. But he told me that's what he wants eventually. And I believe him." Beric put a hand on Sansa's shoulder. "He wants _only you."_

Sansa smiled at Beric's words, but longed to hear them from Sandor. She placed her hand over his and looked up at him. "Thank you, Beric."

"Anytime." With a small smile, Beric turned and disappeared into his room.

Back in her own bedroom, Sansa took off her pajamas and folded them neatly on top of her suitcase. She gathered her dress and shoes off of the floor and put them away as well. It was almost 2:00. Pulling the covers up, Sansa squeezed her eyes shut and hoped Sandor would come back soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh snap! Damn y'all...poor Sansa can't catch a break. Who's right...who's wrong?! AHHH!
> 
> So here's a fun fact about me...like my version of Sansa in this story, I am a first grade teacher! :)


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of your kind comments make me smile! Thank you so much! Reviews just make my day so much better. I wish I had y'all to talk to in real life...I have so many friends who love and watch Game of Thrones, but NONE of them understand my infatuation with Sandor and all things SanSan :( Oh well. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy this next chapter! Please let me know what you think. Happy reading! xoxoxo

In Sandor's mind, he hadn't done anything wrong. He had just been sitting there, minding his own business, trying to focus on the blackjack game. _It wasn't my fault the damn waitress kissed me,_ he seethed to himself. Put out from his fight with Sansa, he had sauntered back down to the casino and perched himself at a stool around the circular main bar that sat in the middle of the room. People mingled and laughed and drank all around him as he sat in solitude. As the bartender poured Sandor's third glass of whiskey, the waitress who had kissed him caught his eye. With narrowed eyes, he watched her as she engaged in the same antics with another man the exact way she had done with him. Only this man was giving into her flirting, wedging a ten dollar bill between her tits. Sandor shook his head and lit another cigarette. _If only Sansa could see that bitch now...she'd understand what I was trying to tell her._ He had been debating on giving in and going back up to the room to talk to her. Of course, Sansa would still be plenty mad at him, but maybe after a little while to herself, she would be calmed down. Another part of him wanted to just go upstairs and pass out on the couch and leave Sansa alone to be sour. He had almost talked himself into that option when he heard Thoros behind him.

"The _hooouuund!"_ Thoros bellowed into his ear as he slung himself onto the barstool next to him. Sandor tensed and grimaced at his friend's loud, drunken behavior. "What in the name of the Gods are you doing down here when you have a beautiful woman upstairs waiting for you?!"

Sandor took a drag from his cigarette and glared at Thoros. "She's pissed at me."

Thoros stretched his mouth into a line and slurred, "And drinking down here by yourself is the answer, eh Clegane?"

"Give it a rest, Thoros."

Thoros whistled for the bartender. "Two shots of Patron!"

Sandor shook his head at the bartender. "None for me."

Scoffing, Thoros corrected himself. "Tequila for one, then!" He winced as the alcohol burned its way down his throat. _"Augh.._.listen, friend...whatever you have done wrong, you must apologize." Being in no mood for Thoros' drunken preachings, Sandor rolled his eyes.

"I didn't do anything wrong." Reluctantly, Sandor filled Thoros in on the basic details of what had gone wrong with his night.

Once he was finished, Thoros shook his head and pointed a wobbly finger in his face. "It doesn't matter if you think you did nothing wrong. _She_ thinks you did something wrong, and it's your _duty_ to apologize." A little harder than he had intended, Thoros brought his hand down on Sandor's shoulder. "Since your brother was shit at being a brother, allow me to share some _older brotherly_ advice with you..."

Sandor dropped his head and chuckled. Drunk as he was, Thoros meant well and Sandor couldn't help but appreciate his sentiments. There was a short list of people in Sandor's life who could openly talk about Gregor without getting a black eye. Luckily for Thoros, he was on that list.

Hiccuping, Thoros leaned close to Sandor. _"The woman is always right._ Save yourself some pain and give her what she wants."

What Thoros said was nothing new to Sandor. But he indulged his friend. He flicked the ash on the end of his cigarette into a nearby ashtray. "And what does she want?"

Mouth agape, Thoros looked at Sandor. _"An apology!"_ Thoros threw his hands in the air. "Wouldn't you want one if it were the other way around?!"

Sandor was in no mood to go upstairs and apologize, but he could tell it was time for them to call it a night. He slid from the stool and took Thoros by the arm. "Come on, you drunk fool."

Back upstairs in the suite, Sansa was still tossing and turning in the large bed. Unable to sleep, she had watched as scenario after horrible scenario crept through her mind as to what Sandor was doing downstairs in the casino. Deep down, she believed Beric's words telling her that Sandor would never be unfaithful to her. But his prolonged absence was causing Sansa to fret. After what seemed like hours, she heard the front door open. She lifted her head off the pillow to listen. Her heart leapt when she heard Sandor's voice.

 _"Dammit...come on, Thoros."_ She heard Sandor say as the door shut. A loud _thud_ and Thoros' laughter could be heard, followed by a heavy groan from Sandor.

 _"Son of a bitch...get up."_ Sandor said. Shuffling noises faded out of earshot. A door somewhere in the suite opened. _"3:00 tomorrow afternoon, Thoros. Set a fucking alarm."_ Sandor's deep voice carried across the suite. Sansa faintly heard Thoros slur words she couldn't quite make out. _"Yea, yea...I'll get right on that."_

When Sansa heard a key in their bedroom door, her head quickly hit the pillow again and she squeezed her eyes shut.

In the dark, Sandor tripped his way across the room. He kicked off his boots and pulled his clothes from his body. As he stood in the dark, he decided that if he was going to wake Sansa up to apologize to her, he better do it not smelling like cigarette smoke and whiskey. As quietly as he could, he made his way to the bathroom and shut the door.

For a brief few seconds, Sansa cracked one eye open and saw Sandor's naked body silhouetted against the light in the bathroom before the door closed. She heard the water run for several minutes. A little while later, Sandor emerged from the bathroom and eased under the covers behind her. Sansa steadied her breath as much as she could to make it seem like she was fast asleep. She kept her body still as Sandor slowly put his arms around her and tucked his chin over her shoulder. "Sansa?" He whispered quietly.

Sansa moaned softly, but said nothing.

Shaking her gently, Sandor tried again. "Sansa...baby?"

Louder than before, Sansa moaned and moved her head towards him. "Hmmm?"

"Wake up. Please?"

Sansa rolled to her back and rubbed her eyes. "What is it?"

Swallowing his pride, Sandor spoke softly to her and cradled her face tenderly in his big hands. "I'm sorry. You were right. I wouldn't have liked it _at all_ if some asshole did the same thing to you that the waitress did to me."

Sansa sighed, but remained silent. She rolled her head away from where she could feel him staring at her through the darkness.

Searching for more words, Sandor continued. "At the time, I...I just...I was so focused on the game, I didn't even realize what she was doing before it was too late." What he said was true. When it was happening, Sandor hadn't even noticed how close she had been. "I would _never_ do anything to jeopardize what we have. You've got to believe me."

Rolling her body to fully face him, Sansa reached out and found his strong arms. "I believe you." She rubbed her hand up and down his bicep. "It just upset me is all. And the way you acted when I asked you about it upset me more." Even in the darkness of the room, Sansa could sense his eyes on her face.

"I know, and I'm very _very_ sorry."

Sansa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry too. For acting so childish about the whole thing. Stomping my feet and throwing things at you probably wasn't the best idea."

Sandor laughed and pulled Sansa into his lap. She shivered against the cool air in the room, so Sandor pulled the covers up around their bodies. The contact of his warm skin on hers was such a comfort to Sansa. In his embrace, she always felt safe. She felt like she belonged there. Like she was home. "We both could have handled things differently. But things like this are going to happen. Not the kissing incident again, hopefully. But we're going to have disagreements. There will be times when you will think I am the world's biggest asshole, and there will be times when I think you're being a pain in the ass."

Pretending to be offended by his comment, Sansa laughed and poked him in the ribs. Grinning, Sandor bear hugged her close so she couldn't poke him again. "But even when all that shit happens...whenever we have arguments or whatever, please know that I will always keep our relationship's best interests at heart. I'll never go off and cheat on you or anything like that. No matter how bad things get. I will never leave you." _It's now or never,_ he said silently to himself. Maybe it was the whiskey giving him the confidence to express his desires to her, but he found it very easy to say. "I want to marry you one day." Waiting for a response, Sandor's body went rigid. After listening to the deafening silence for a moment, he hesitantly asked, "Is that something you want one day, too?" Sandor's heart hammered in his chest as he heard her open her mouth to reply.

"More than anything."

Not realizing he had been holding his breath while waiting for her to answer, Sandor breathed a sigh of relief, which triggered a giggle from Sansa. "Well that's good to hear. You should know, that's not something I have ever really wanted. Yea, Audrina and I had planned on it, but only because she gave me an ultimatum." He pressed his lips against her forehead and rocked her body with his. "I love you very much, and I am so thankful that you came into my life. Right when I needed you the most." It was a known fact that Sandor had never been good at putting his feelings into words, but he felt like he had done a pretty decent job. Before meeting Sansa, he had almost lost all hope at finding love again, and had been coming to the realization that he would have to be satisfied with one night stands and drunken hook ups for the rest of his miserable life. Sansa had been a life raft flung at him, and he hadn't even realized he had been drowning without her.

"I love you too." Sansa whispered into Sandor's arm that held her close. "You make me very happy. The happiest I have been in a long time. And I would love to spend the rest of my days making you happy."

"You already make me happy." In response to Sandor's comment, Sansa smiled and sank herself deeper into his embrace. "But you know..." Sandor continued, "I'll have to wait to until we've been together long enough for it to be considered... _socially acceptable_ to propose."

Sansa laughed. "How long will that take?" She joked. "Months...years?"

Laughter rumbled from Sandor's chest. "Don't push you luck, little bird."

"Well you know you can't do _anything_ of that sort without asking my father first."

Sandor sighed. "Yes, there's that, too. Had forgotten about that." He mumbled. "Guess I'll cross that bridge when the time comes."

Exhausted from staying up waiting on Sandor, Sansa was asleep a few minutes later. Sandor couldn't bear to remove her from his lap, so with his arms still wrapped around her body, he settled down into the pillows and closed his eyes. He caught himself humming the tune to their song _Angel_ as he drifted off to sleep.

Several hours later, Sansa woke to Sandor gently easing himself out from under her. She sighed as he body made contact with the bed and pulled the silky covers around her, drifting back to sleep. Moments later, she woke again to find Sandor, dressed in his grey sweatpants and a t-shirt. Sansa lifted her head up and blinked her sleepy eyes at him. "Where are you going?"

"Beric and I are going to go workout at the hotel's gym."

Yawning, Sansa asked, "What time is it?"

Sandor leaned down to the bed and kissed Sansa on the cheek. He lingered there next to her. "It's early. Go back to sleep. I'll be back after a while."

Nodding, Sansa closed her eyes. Sandor kissed her on the cheek again before leaving the room.

When Sansa woke again, it was past 9:00. Sandor hadn't returned from the gym yet, but she didn't want to sleep the day away. Voices from somewhere in the suite grabbed her attention. After dressing herself in a t-shirt of Sandor's and her sleep shorts, she entered the living room. Margaery, Tormund and the woman she had met last night, Lola were sitting on the sectional.

"Good morning!" Margaery sang to her as she sank down next to her. "And how are you this morning?"

Smiling and stretching, Sansa nodded. "Wonderful. You?"

Margaery rolled her eyes. "A bit hungover. My new friend Lola and I hit up Minotaur last night with Beric and Tormund. Did you meet Lola?" Margaery asked as she smiled at her.

"Yes, we met last night." Sansa said, smiling at the woman. She was wearing a t-shirt that she assumed was Beric's and her leggings from the night before.

"Minotaur's was a lot of fun, Sansa. We'll have to go back tonight." Lola said. "After they play, of course."

"So you and Beric have rekindled the flame huh?" Tormund asked, leaning forward with his elbows propped on his knees.

With a sideways grin and a wink, Lola replied, "It never went out, Tormund. Just never could seem to make it work with him so far away."

Turns out, Lola had known Beric for a few years. They had hooked up here and there, but neither were really interested in making a long distance relationship work. So they had kept it casual and got together whenever they could manage it. Her job sounded interesting. Sansa learned that she was a food critic and wrote reviews for several high-end restaurants all over Westeros and Essos. As it happened, she had once been a friend of Audrina's and had met Beric through she and Sandor. Sansa realized her face must have flushed red at the mention of Sandor's ex, because Lola assured her that her and Audrina were not close anymore.

"That bitch is crazy." Lola commented on Audrina. "Didn't have much time for her juvenile bullshit in my life." After rolling her eyes, Lola rose. "Well guys...I have a lunch appointment in a while. Guess I better get going. Can't meet with clients wearing last night's clothes." Once she was changed, she exited Beric's room. "See you all tonight!"

They all said bye and watched her leave. After a few minutes, Sansa realized Thoros hadn't made an appearance yet. "Did Thoros go to the gym with Sandor and Beric?"

"Hah!" Tormund threw his head back and laughed. "That fucker was so drunk last night he wouldn't last five minutes hungover with Sandor and Beric's weight routine!"

From inside a closed bedroom door, they heard Thoros's muffled voice. _"I heard that, you cunt!"_

Laughing as he jumped up, Tormund ran to the door and slung it open. He bounded into the room and the girls laughed as they heard him crash onto the bed. "Well then get the fuck up!"

Margaery turned to Sansa. "There is a _spa_ in the hotel. Wanna go?"

"Uh...yea!"

The girls grinned excitedly at each other and ran to get changed.

Mooton's spa was located right next to its gym. Turns out, the gym had large glass windows that showed everything that was going on inside. Including a shirtless Sandor, who was completing reps of bicep curls with a monstrous looking set of dumbbells. Sansa caught a glimpse of him and slid to a halt. Not watching where she was going, Margaery crashed right into her.

"What are you _doing?_ Let's g..." Margaery's eyes followed what Sansa was staring at. _"Oh my..."_ With a look of impressed bewilderment, Margaery glanced back at a wide-eyed Sansa. "Good Gods, girl..."

Open mouthed, all Sansa could do was nod. Sweat glistened on Sandor's well developed muscles, which rippled under his skin with his movements. The tattoo on his back moved and stretched as he lifted and lowered the weights. He had pulled his hair back into a low pony tail, which was something Sansa was sure she wouldn't see too often. Squinting her eyes at his hair, she realized he had her pink hair tie holding his hair back. It had been missing from the bathroom counter that morning. A faint smile came to her lips as she stared, mesmerized by Sandor's gorgeous body. There were other people in the gym, as well. A few women, an older man, and one or two other young men. But Sansa hardly noticed them.

"I know he's your boyfriend, but _damn!"_ Margaery nudged her with an elbow. Shaking her head as if trying to come to her senses, Sansa tore her eyes away from Sandor.

"Let's go before he sees us spying on him." Sansa commented. She stole one last hungry look at Sandor before they pushed through the spa doors.

"So did you and Sansa get everything sorted out last night?" Beric asked as he lightly held the bench press bar above Sandor's chest. Seeing his confusion, Beric clarified. "Saw her in the kitchen last night once Lola and I got back to the room. She told me what happened."

Grunting as he pushed against the weight of the bar, that was loaded heavy with weights, Sandor said, "Yea, we did. I apologized."

Beric nodded. "Well good for you." He pulled the bar back into its place so Sandor could sit up.

Sweat dripping off Sandor's forehead as he rose from the bench, he continued. "Even went as far as to tell her I wanted to marry her one day."

"How did that go, did it turn out the way you expected?"

Sandor nodded and wiped his brow with the shirt he had taken off. From across the gym, he noticed a trio of young women watching him and whispering amongst each other as they stretched. They smiled and one of them winked when he looked their way. He paid them no mind, however and turned back to Beric. "It went fine. No surprise to me that she wanted the same thing." He paused to gulp from a bottle of water he had brought with him from the hotel room. "Felt good to hear her say it, though."

"Well I am glad. You know, I think she brings out the best in you. Your better qualities, that is." Beric said, winking his good eye.

Sandor lightly pushed him in the chest as he headed for the leg press machine. "Don't go getting soft on me, Dondarrion, we've still got legs to do."

The spa at the Mooton was very luxurious. Sansa and Margaery were delighted that they were able to have massages without an appointment. They were given plush spa robes and were ushered onto an airy covered balcony where two massage tables were set up. The sound of waves crashing in the bay below was welcome and soothing as they laid on the tables. As they were rubbed and pampered by the masseuses, Sansa filled Margaery in on her and Sandor's talk the night before.

 _"Of course_ I told him he had to ask my father! Gods that would be the worst mistake he could make to propose to me without my father's blessing. Mom and dad really like Sandor, but he would be up shit creek if he were to do that."

Understanding Sansa's explaining, Margaery laughed. She knew Ned Stark was a hard man to win over. In fact, he had even told Ramsay _no_ when he first asked him if he could ask Sansa on a date. "Well sounds like you two have it all figured out, don't you?"

"It seems that way."

"So are you going to wear your red lingerie outfit for Sandor tonight?"

Blushing an embarrassing shade of crimson, Sansa's eyes flew to her masseuse. "Marg, I doubt they want to hear about that..."

Margaery laughed again. "Oh, I am sure they have heard women talk about things _much_ more scandalous than see-through underwear." Margaery glanced at the masseuse that was working her hands down her calf.

 _"Much_ worse, darling." The aging woman assured her with a smile.

Defeated, Sansa moaned. "Well, I have it hidden under the sink. It wont really go well under my dress I bought for tonight, so I am going to go to the bathroom once we get back to the room and change."

Soaking up every word, Margaery couldn't help but squeal and clap her hands together. "Are you going to tell him you have a surprise for him, or just come out wearing it?"

Indecisiveness pulled Sansa's lips into a slight frown. The one time she had tried to wear something sexy for Ramsay that way, he had told her she looked ridiculous and had not given her a second glance. Her confidence when it came to being seductive was lacking. "I don't know, what do you think?"

Rolling her head across the massage table to face her Margaery answered confidently. _"Definitely_ just surprise him."

Sansa covered her face with her hands and squealed with anticipation.

After their 90 minute massages, Sansa and Margaery indulged themselves in facials, manicures and pedicures. There was a small bistro off the side of the hotel lobby where they treated themselves to lunch. It was nearly 2:45 by the time they made it back up to the suite. The men were lounging on the couch, laughing and drinking beer. Sansa strode across the room and lowered herself into Sandor's lap. Sandor put his arms around her waist and kissed her neck.

"And where have you two been?" He asked, pulling her back to his chest.

"Oh...just at the _spaaaa."_ Sansa cooed as she twirled a lock of his hair in her fingers. It was clean and shiny and he was wearing a fresh t-shirt and jeans. Always one to associate smells with fond memories, Sansa noted that he smelled just like he did the first night they hung out in her apartment. "Massages, facials, manicures...you know."

Sandor's deep laugh jostled her against him. "No...can't say that I know."

Realizing the time, Tormund abruptly jumped to his feet and raised his arms. "You guys ready to go?!"

"Where do you have to go?" Sansa whined as she turned into Sandor's body and pressed her cheek into his neck.

Patting her back, signaling her to get up, Sandor said. "We've got to be downstairs at 3:00 to set up and sound check and get stuff ready for tonight." Sansa gave him an exaggerated pout as she laid down on the couch. "I'll be back in a little while. You gonna take a nap?"

Nodding her head, Sansa held her arms up to him. "Carry me to the bed." Sandor looked down at her and rolled his eyes. _"Pleeaasse baby?"_

This woman had managed to get him completely wrapped around her finger. And Sandor found that he didn't mind at all. He smiled and shook his head as he stooped down to the couch and gathered her in his arms. Her light body relaxed against him as he walked across the room and nudged the door open with his foot. Gently, Sandor laid her on the bed and covered her with the soft blanket. "We start playing tonight at 7:00. You gonna be up and ready by then?"

Still sleepy from the night before, Sansa nodded as yawned and relaxed into the bed. "Love you." She whispered.

"I love you too, Sansa." Sandor left her with a kiss and a smile on her face as she settled into a peaceful nap.

Two hours later, Sandor found Sansa in the same spot he had left her. He kept his movements slow and quiet as he gently pulled the covers down. She had undressed herself after he had left. The sight of her creamy smooth skin and shapely figure made his dick immediately strain against his jeans. Not wanting to wake her quite yet, he eased himself onto the bed below her and began to trace kisses up her leg. Her body smelled like the sweet, floral scented oil that the masseuse had used during her massage. As Sansa began to stir from the feeling of Sandor's rough beard tickling her inner thigh, she stretched and rolled to her back. Having made his way up between her legs, Sandor kissed her there, producing a happily surprised gasp from Sansa's lips. He pushed her legs apart and licked her folds, flicking his tongue at her clit. Setting the pace for their surprise love making, Sansa reached for him slowly, pulling his shoulders up to her. As he discarded his shirt, Sansa caught a glorious whiff of him. The smell of his sweat that he had worked up while practicing for that night was intoxicating. Masculinity was something Sandor was definitely not lacking, and she was thankful for that. Sansa inhaled deeply and pressed her face into his chest, laying kisses on it as she slid his jeans and underwear down. The love they made in the bed that afternoon was slow and sweet. Very different, no doubt from what she imagined would happen again later that night.

After the act, Sandor collapsed into the cool sheets and moaned. _"Gods,_ I love you." He panted, having been slowly worked up to a very satisfying release.

Curling into his side, Sansa smiled. "I love you, too." She kissed his cheek before leaving the bed. "I'm going to go get a shower." Sandor nodded and pulled the covers around him, needing a quick nap before he got ready for that night.

Around 6:30, Sandor and the rest of the men had to go downstairs to finish getting things ready to go for that night. Sansa and Margaery had almost finished getting ready when the men left the suite. Margaery had curled her hair, and then Sansa's until it fell in soft waves down their backs. Once Sansa put her black sequined dress on, Margaery insisted that Sansa pull her hair up into a high ponytail so the back of her dress could be seen.

"Girl, that cut out on the back of your dress is too sexy to hide with your hair." Margaery teased the hair on top of Sansa's head and scraped it into a high pony tail. She secured it with an elastic and wrapped a strand of hair around the base to hide it.

Once they were satisfied with their appearance, they grabbed their clutches and headed down to the casino. The party that the band had been hired for was to celebrate the casino's twentieth anniversary of opening. Elaborate black and silver decorations covered the casino floor. Confetti floated through the air and streamers hung from the ceiling. Champagne was being offered freely to the party guests and casino patrons. The stage was along one of the sides of the casino wall. Still open to the rest of the floor, but now had tables surrounding it. Long serving tables had been set up with food from the buffet they had eaten at Friday night.

Lola had gotten there earlier and had saved seats at a table for Sansa and Margaery. They waved when they spotted her and picked their way through the sea of people. The party area was very crowded and Sansa was glad their new friend had gotten a table close to the stage. They sat and chatted as they waited for the band to start playing.

"The meeting went fine." Lola began in response to Sansa's question. "I've been booked to review some new menu items at a bunch of restaurants in King's Landing. So hopefully we'll be seeing more of each other soon! I'll be staying there for about three weeks."

"That's great!" Sansa exclaimed. "So are you and Beric...what's going to happen with you two?"

Lola laughed and sipped from her champagne glass. "Beric is very dear to me. I would love to have a relationship with him. It's just hard being up here in Maidenpool and him down there. But unless I can get something permanent down in King's Landing, that probably won't happen."

"Are you looking for a job in King's Landing?" Inquired Margaery.

After pausing to light a cigarette, Lola answered, "My goal is to actually open a restaurant down there. I've got my eye on a few places that would do nicely, but it'll still be a while before that happens." She shrugged as she inhaled her cigarette. "Guess we'll just play it by ear."

Sansa smiled at the thought of Beric having someone. Sandor had once told her that he was a habitual bachelor, not ever one to tie himself down with a relationship.

"Now all we have to do is find someone for Thoros!" Margaery laughed.

"Oh yes, good luck with _that!"_ Lola cried.

A few minutes later, Sandor came down from behind the stage to find Sansa. She jumped a bit when he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Hey babe." He rasped in her ear as he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. "We're getting ready to start."

Turning her body in her chair to face him, Sansa looked up at Sandor. He was wearing his usual white t-shirt, jeans and boots. "Are you going to be tossing your sweaty shirt at anybody this time?" She teased, tugging gently at the fabric.

Laughter rumbled from his chest. "Would that make you jealous?"

Narrowing her eyes, Sansa replied, "After our altercation last night, should that even be a question?"

Sandor continued to laugh as he kissed her mouth. "If I throw it at anyone, it would be at you."

Sansa rolled her eyes and kissed him back. "Love you, _hound."_

A broad smile stretched across Sandor's face. "Love you too, little bird."

Before introducing the band, a man Sansa assumed was the owner of the casino gave a welcome speech. He thanked all of the people for being there that evening and wished them all a good time. _Midnight Envy_ was amazing, as always. As usual, Sansa found it impossible to keep her eyes off of Sandor. The girls danced and sang and drank glass after glass of champagne. People crowded around the stage as they listened and drank and danced. Men approached them periodically to ask for a dance, all of which were declined. Lola even went as far as to raise her middle finger to an overly persistent one who couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Through the bright lights that were shining on the stage, Sandor had a clear view of Sansa. The dress she had worn was adorned with glittering sequins that caught his eye as she moved and swayed with the music. He would love nothing more than to tear the dress from her body once they made it back up to their hotel room. The dress looked expensive, though, and Sandor figured she wouldn't take lightly to him ripping away the fabric as he had done her panties the night of the gala. The memory of that night made his cock swell slightly. Not wanting to have a raging boner in front of the whole casino, he pressed his guitar close to his crotch to hide the evidence. As he maneuvered his fingers up and down the neck of his guitar, Sandor noticed a few men who tried to ask Sansa for a dance. With a smug grin on his face, he watched as Sansa shook her head, or ignored them completely, much to the men's disappointment. He relished the fact that Sansa was _his_ and there was nothing any of those assholes could do to change her mind.

The party was fantastic. The food was delicious. People from all over raved about how good _Midnight Envy_ was. Pride swelled in Sansa's chest as she overheard two women at the dessert table talk about how sexy the guitar player with the scarred face was.

"Did you see how _tall_ he is?!" One of them exclaimed.

The other nodded. "Girl, I was more focused on how big his chest is." Sansa smirked as she leaned across the table for a piece of cake. "Gods and did you see his _hard-on?!_ You could see it straight through his jeans!"

Not being able to help herself, Sansa intervened. She leaned in closer to the women. "I hear he's got a girlfriend."

Sansa's statement produced crestfallen sighs from the women. "Do you know him?" The one who had noticed his erection asked eagerly.

Tossing her hair over her shoulder as she turned to walk away, Sansa looked back. _"A bit."_ Once she was out of earshot of the women at the dessert table, Sansa burst into giggles. Whether Sandor realized or acknowledged it or not, there were women out there who desired him. But Sansa had him all to herself.

At 10:00, the band wrapped up their performance and stowed their equipment backstage. At Margaery's urging, they all decided to go to Minotaur. The dance floor at the nightclub was dark, lit only by strobe lights and hundreds of red lasers. Having caught quite a buzz, Sansa, Margaery and Lola hit the dance floor immediately. Only getting to have a few beers between songs during their playing, Sandor went straight to the bar. He stood at a tall table near the dance floor to keep an eye on Sansa. Not because he didn't trust her, but because he didn't trust all the drunk men in the establishment to keep their hands off of her. Sandor relaxed a little bit when Tormund and Beric joined their women. He and Thoros chatted and critiqued the way their songs had gone during the evening. After a while, the ones who were dancing took a break. Sandor accompanied Sansa to the bar to get some drinks. As they stood, waiting for their drinks, Sansa noticed the two women who she overheard talking at the dessert table were a few feet down the bar. Their eyes were watching her and Sandor very closely. It might have been the champagne Sansa had been drinking, or maybe just her raw desire to claim her man in front of the wanton women, but Sansa turned to face Sandor who was standing close behind her. His hands were on either side of her body, resting on the corner of the bar. To close the space between them, Sansa hooked her fingers in his belt loops and pulled his hips towards hers. She traced a hand up the hard packed muscle of his chest and wove it into the hair that fell to his back. Her open lips met his in a feverishly urgent kiss. Sandor removed his hands from the bar and encircled them around her slim waist, caressing the silky material of her dress. Pulling back with a coy little smile, Sansa rested her cheek on Sandor's chest, facing the women. With a smug sideways grin, she shrugged her shoulders at them as Sandor handed her the drink she had ordered and followed him back to their friends.

Never one to dance to music of the rap and pop variety, Sandor was satisfied just to prop back on the high table and watch Sansa as she danced with Margaery and Lola. They danced nonstop for almost half an hour. Needing a break, the women joined their men and mingled together, joking with each other and drinking. Sansa, who was standing at the edge of their group, was soon approached by a man with a clean shaven head and a tight tank top. The top of his head was shiny with sweat and his swaying stance gave away that he had been drinking heavily.

"Hey toots, I saw you shakin' that thing out there on the dance floor. You wanna shake it for _me_ now?" The man asked as his lips curled back to show rows of crooked teeth.

Just noticing the man, but not wanting to make any hasty movements just yet, Sandor listened with one ear and smoked his cigarette, raising his chin to blow smoke above the heads of the others.

Disgusted by the man's unwanted advances, Sansa shook her head and turned her shoulders slightly away from him. But the bald man was persistent. "You have the most beautiful, red hair." Instantly, Sansa jerked her arm away as he reached a finger out to touch her skin. _"Does the carpet match the drapes?"_

 _"Ugh!"_ Sansa exclaimed, now repulsed by the bald man. She took a backwards step towards Sandor, who had been listening to the man. Instinctively, he stepped protectively around Sansa to address the man.

"Did I hear you correctly?" Sandor growled above the noise of the nightclub. The bald man wasn't a small man by any means, but he was still dwarfed by Sandor's towering stature. Sensing Sandor's rage bubbling to the surface, Thoros took Sansa's hand and pulled her a few steps away from him.

Maybe the bald man was braver than he was smart, because even with Sandor's ominous appearance and advances towards him, the bald man kept talking. "Fuck off, mate. What are you, her dad?!"

Trying to remedy the tense situation with a bit of comedy, Tormund jumped to Sandor's side. "Ahh, he should have asked me." He threw his hands in the air and looked back at the others. "He should have asked me! I have the most beautiful red hair too." With a dark, wild look, he turned to the bald man and rumbled angrily, "Don't you want to ask _me?"_

Now with two sinister looking men edging towards him, he bald man began to balk and regret talking to Sansa in the first place. But he refused to back away. Sandor took the cigarette that hung from his lips, stepped towards the man, and pressed the smoking butt into the drink the man held in his hand. The cigarette hissed as it went out in the melting ice. Peeking between Sandor and Tormund's bodies, Sansa gasped quietly, nervously anticipating what was to come. The bald man opened his mouth to say something else, but Sandor was tired of listening to him. He turned his body slightly to give Tormund a readying look, should his course of action not go the way he was intending. The bald man must have thought Sandor was turning to leave, because he began to laugh mockingly. With one powerful thrust, Sandor swung his torso back towards the man, clenched hand raised. His fist made contact with the man's mouth, sending him careening backwards to the floor. Sansa stared in shock and covered her mouth as the man fell. At first, the man just laid there, dazed. After several seconds, he sat up and spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor. Sandor loomed over him, daring him to retaliate. Having seen the altercation, the bouncer rushed over. He took in Sandor's massive frame, wondering how he should handle the situation. Sandor quickly dug his wallet out of his back pocket and extracted a one hundred dollar bill. He held the bill up between two fingers in the bouncer's face. Suspiciously, the bouncer's eyes darted between the money, the man on the floor and Sandor.

As Sandor glared at the bouncer, he said in a menacing tone, _"This never happened..."_

 _"What_ never happened?" The bouncer asked as he plucked the money from Sandor's hand. He pulled the bald man off the floor and began pushing him towards the door. Sansa rushed to Sandor's side and put her arms around him. She was not usually one to encourage violence, but the bald man had been vile, and Sansa was glad that he had been dealt with. There was no denying Sansa was turned on by Sandor's protectiveness, and she found it increasingly more difficult to keep her hands off of him during the rest of their time in the nightclub.

Some time after Sandor's incident with the bald man, Sansa was beginning to grow antsy. Not wanting any other man to mistake her for a single woman, Sandor's hands had been in constant contact with her body. His hand would make its way to her shoulder, her neck when he would lean in to kiss her, or the curve of her bottom to squeeze. The nightclub was so dark, Sandor found he could easily slip his hand up the back of Sansa's skirt without being seen. As she leaned back against his chest, Sandor hooked his arm around her collarbone and slid the other between her thighs from the back to the point where they joined. Pushing the narrow strip of fabric aside, Sandor ran his fingers across the luscious, velvety skin that he found here. A few strokes of his fingers left Sansa breathless and wanting more. "If you don't take me upstairs and make love to me soon, we'll have to find a bathroom down here somewhere..." Sansa hissed into his ear as she reached behind her and gripped the back of his neck.

Her comment was intriguing. Sex in a public bathroom was something Sandor was no stranger to, and he would gladly take Sansa anywhere that she was willing to have him. But they had a massive king size bed all to themselves that had been steadily calling his name all night. "Well then let's go upstairs." Sandor snarled into her ear.

As they crossed through the large opening that led back into the casino, Sandor tipped his head to the bouncer. The bouncer held his hand up and wished them a good night. On the way to the elevators, Sandor kept his hand tightly around Sansa's waist. When the doors opened, they stepped inside and Sansa immediately pushed him up against the mirrored wall after slamming her hand on the penthouse button. The champagne Sansa had been drinking had definitely had an effect on her boldness. On her toes, she pulled herself up to meet him with a passionate kiss. Sandor buried his hands in her hair as he returned her kiss with equal fervor. He moaned as Sansa pressed into his groin, causing his manhood to grow with anticipation. By the time they made it to their room, Sansa had already undone Sandor's belt and jeans and had slipped her hand inside as they hurried down the short hallway to the door. She was nibbling at his neck and caressing the bulge in his boxers, rubbing her hand across the hardness under the smooth material. Laughter growled from his throat as Sandor tried again and again to unlock the door.

"Little bird..." he warned, "You're going to make me have to take you right here in this hallway if you don't stop for one damn minute."

Amused at his urgency, Sansa withdrew her hand and stood with her hands behind her back, twisting her torso back and forth with an innocent look on her face. They reached the bedroom and Sansa took over once again. "Undress." She commanded as she pushed him with the palm of her hand to the bed.

Surprised, Sandor pulled his shirt off and laid back. "Yes ma'am."

Propping her hands on his knees, Sansa leaned down to him. "I need to go to the bathroom." Before she straightened back up, she kissed his stomach and ran her tongue beneath the waistband of his underwear. With feminine exaggeration, she removed the elastic that held her hair up and ran her fingers through the long, red waves. She closed and locked the bathroom door and hastily undressed herself. The straps of the red bra were difficult to manage on her own. They criss-crossed down her ribs to her waist. Once she had them in place, she pulled her breasts up and tightened the shoulder straps, firmly securing her cleavage. She slipped the thong on and pulled up the red fishnet thigh high stockings. Sansa's heart was racing the whole time she readied herself, hoping Sandor would like what he saw. Steadying herself against the edge of bathroom counter, she slid her feet into the red heels. To make it seem like she had been using the restroom, she flushed the toilet. One of Sandor's button down long sleeve shirts was on the floor. Getting a wild idea in her head, Sansa pulled the black shirt on and buttoned it up, leaving the top open to show off her breasts. What she saw in the mirror pleased her. She tousled her hair before opening the door. Sansa placed her hands on the doorframe and cocked one hip up with a bend of her knee. She swallowed to moisten her dry mouth as her heart pounded in her chest. Sandor rolled his head across the pillows. He did a double take as he saw her. Wide-eyed, he swung his legs to the floor and sat up.

"Holy shit...what...?" Were the only words he could manage.

In a slow, seductive manner, Sansa reached for the first button and pulled it free as she took a step towards him.

"Nice shirt..." Sandor commented, his good eyebrow arched in amusement.

"Thanks." Sansa slowly closed the distance between them, popping a button loose on the shirt with each step she took. She let it hang open when she was a few feet away from him. Sandor watched with open mouthed amazement as she tugged the collar open and let the shirt slide off her shoulders to the floor. A low whistle shot from Sandor's lips.

"Oh baby..." He couldn't believe how lucky he was. Sansa was a feast for the eyes, and this naughty getup she had on only accentuated her beauty. The edges of the red bra were trimmed in lace, but the middle was sheer, giving him a red-tinted view of her perfectly shaped nipples. Long straps circled around her body, ending just above her delicately flared hips. The front of her thong was made from the same sheer material as the bra. Sandor licked his lips, seeing the top of her slit. She closed the rest of the gap between them, and brushed her knee against the inside of his thigh as she stood just inches away.

"Turn for me." Sandor rasped, his low voice heavy with arousal. Sansa obeyed and slowly stepped in a circle. With his big hands on her hips, he stopped her before she could complete the turn. The fishnet stockings came to an end a few inches below Sansa's firm, perky bottom. A red bow topped the thong in the back, making her seem like a present. Best present ever. "Bend over." Sandor instructed, pressing her down at the small of her back. As she did, Sansa kept her legs and back straight. She propped her hands on her knees and looked back at him.

"I though _I_ was the one giving the commands."

Sandor gripped her ass, covering her cheeks with his rough hands. "Baby, right now you could tell me to go stick my fingers in an electrical outlet and I would." He leaned forwards and spread her cheeks slightly, giving him a glimpse of her lips. He positioned his face in between and pressed his tongue against the silky material that covered her opening. Sansa sighed heavily, becoming increasingly turned on by the movements of Sandor's tongue, his silva and her own arousal making her slit slick with anticipation. Sandor pulled her back upright and turned her around to face him again.

"You are... _gah_ you're so sexy." He traced a finger under the straps that wove around her waist. This wasn't the first time he had been given this experience from a woman before. Audrina kept a drawer full of naughty lingerie that Sandor had gotten to see regularly. There was no denying she had looked good in them, but with Sansa, it was worlds different. Sansa's innocent, shy nature added to her allure. Where Audrina had been overconfident and at times arrogant about her sex appeal, Sansa was sweet and free from vanity. "You are stunning in _anything_ that you wear, but this.. _.I love this."_

An excited flush fell across her skin as Sansa bit her lip. "Lie back again..." she whispered. Sandor did as he was told and pulled his legs back onto the bed and leaned back against the pillows. Reaching behind her, Sansa unhooked the clasp on her bra and pulled the straps from her body. With a small giggle, she flung the garment at Sandor. Grinning, he caught it and laid it aside. Without much hurry, Sansa turned her back to Sandor and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her thong. Keeping her legs straight, she slowly slid the thong down past the thigh highs, which she kept in place. From where Sandor was on the bed, he had a fantastic view of her cunt from behind. It was swollen and shiny with arousal. On all fours, Sansa crawled on the bed up to Sandor. Straddling him, but not letting him enter, she took his wrists and held them above his head. She flung her hair over her shoulders and leaned down to meet his lips. Sandor moaned as she bit his bottom lip and tugged slightly with her teeth. He lowered his hands to touch her, only to have Sansa roughly push them back to the pillows. Her dominating actions pleased Sandor, who growled lowly.

"What's gotten into you tonight?" He wondered out loud. As Sansa kissed her way down to his lower stomach, she looked up and flashed a devilish grin. "Whatever it is, I like it."

Sansa positioned herself between Sandor's knees and grasped his fully erect cock in her hands. She gently squeezed and moved them up and down as she flicked her tongue at the tip. Sandor grabbed handfuls of the pillow cases behind his head as Sansa slowly and tantalizingly slid her tongue down his shaft. He moaned loudly when he felt her encase as much of him as she could in her mouth. Just seconds later, Sansa raised herself and crawled towards him once more. Reaching between her legs, she placed his cock at her opening and slid it back and forth, letting him feel her wetness. Again, Sandor reached for her, only to have his hands pushed away. He laughed as he crossed them behind his head, propping it up to get a better look. Sansa lowered her hips down marginally, easing just the tip into her tightness. Sandor's breath hitched in his chest with expectation. His body tensed as he waited for her to slide the rest of the way down. Instead, Sansa raised her hips and placed her mouth back on Sandor's throbbing manhood. He gasped as she sucked and swirled her tongue around his hardness. This action didn't last long either, for Sansa was back up in an instant, pressing his cock into her dripping cunt. Sandor tried again to lower his arms to her body so he could push her hips down, but again, she brushed his hands away.

"Am I going to have to tie your hands together?" She giggled with an arched eyebrow.

Sandor groaned. "Baby, you can do _whatever you want_ to me..."

Hearing this gave Sansa a wicked idea. She reached for the bra she had tossed him earlier. After crossing Sandor's wrists over each other, she wrapped the garment around them and secured them to a rail on the headboard.

Sandor laughed and snarled wickedly in approval. "Gods you're so _bad..."_

To test his binds, Sandor attempted to pull his hands free, with no luck. Sansa repeated her actions again, not letting but the first few inches of his lengthly shaft penetrate her. She could taste her juices on his cock as she sucked and it made her feel provocative and wild. Coming back up, Sansa pressed his cock to his stomach and straddled him, pressing her slit against it. She rocked her hips back and forth, sliding her lips up and down its length.

Sandor was growing increasingly impatient from her switching back and forth. But he was loving every minute of it. "You are driving me _crazy!"_ He growled, straining his hands against the bra that held them together.

"Do you want me?" Sansa whispered as she trailed her fingers up her stomach. Her hips continued to make smooth, sexy passes up and down his painfully hard manhood. She cupped her breasts and pressed them together seductively, letting her head roll back.

"Fuck _yes!_ Are you going to make me beg?"

Satisfaction pulled the corners of Sansa's mouth into a smile. "Tell me that you _want me..."_

"Gods, Sansa...I want you so badly!" His breathing came out in almost frantic puffs. "I want to feel your tight pussy slide down on my dick. _I need you..."_

The sound of him talking dirty to her was incredibly arousing. She could no longer take it anymore either. She had to have him that instant. Sansa let his cock spring free from underneath her and almost screamed in pleasure as she slammed her hips down on its length. Sandor opened his mouth to let out a roaring groan. Wanting to feel his hands on her, Sansa pulled his wrists free of the bra. Instead of immediately grabbing her body, Sandor found her face and pulled it towards his to reward her for releasing him with a passionate kiss, sucking on her lips as if she was his nourishment. Breathless, Sansa threw her upper body upright and began to gyrate her pelvis across his, creating the friction that would soon push them both over the edge. The rocking of her hips massaged and rubbed their parts together. Their times together so far had given Sansa knowledge of when Sandor was about to cum. As she arched her back and began to quicken her pace, she felt him tense inside of her, pressing and swelling even bigger against her tight walls. Keeping her hips moving with a rapid, even tempo, she leaned down and clenched a bit of skin on his neck in her teeth.

 _"Fuck!"_ Sandor bellowed as he came. Every muscle in his body tightened with the pleasure from his climax. His hands flew to Sansa's hips, pressing into her harder, intensifying the culminations as he pulsated inside of her. Feeling his warmth release inside her cunt sent Sansa's orgasm tearing through her body. Wanting to hear her, Sandor did little to stifle her orgasmic screams that echoed through the bedroom. Once the powerful sensations lessened, Sansa collapsed onto Sandor's heaving chest. Gulping for air as she steadied her breathing, Sansa looked up at him. Neither one spoke. Sandor simply looked adoringly down at Sansa, not entirely sure what he had done to deserve a woman such as her.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter, happy reading, y’all! As always, please  
> leave a comment and let me know what you think! xoxoxo

The next morning, Sansa found herself awake before Sandor. This was a rare occurrence, so Sansa took advantage of the opportunity to watch him as he slept. Deep, even breaths rolled from his lips, which were parted slightly. He must have kicked the covers off at some point during the night, because the majority of his naked body was in full view. She studied his features, his strong masculine jawline, the veins that laced across the muscles of his forearms, the dark hair that spread over his chest. Sansa's eyes followed the trail of hair down and came to a rest on his cock. Even flaccid, it was still substantially large. A smile stretched across her lips, for she knew most women could only dream of having a man with such an impressive size that they could call their own. The fact that he was well endowed was of course not the only reason she loved him. Sandor was caring, protective and loved her fiercely. His large member was only a bonus. Scenes from last night danced through her mind as she lay next to him, her eyes roaming over his naked body. She had loved teasing him, pushing him to the point of begging for her body. Prolonging the foreplay in the way she had intensified the sensations for her and Sandor both. His arm that was closest to her was raised behind his head, exposing Sansa's favorite nook to nestle herself in. She settled her head on his chest and curled into his body. In response to feeling her closeness, Sandor lowered his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him tightly.

In the days after returning from Maidenpool, Sansa busied herself helping her mother plan for an upcoming annual charity dinner called 'Feast in the Field.' This particular event was held each year to raise money for Merciful Mother's fight against childhood cancer. With the help of his mother, Robb had established the charity event three years ago, and it had been wildly successful each year. A horse breeding facility that was owned by the president of the hospital would be the venue, as it had been for the past years. Catelyn had arranged for a well known local barbecue restaurant to cater the event. After dinner Thursday evening, Sansa and her mother sat with pictures, lists, and business cards fanned out in front of them on Catelyn's desk, gathering inspiration for decorations. A large, elegant tent would be where the dinner and dancing would be held. Catelyn envisioned glittering chandeliers and strings of lights being the perfect juxtaposition to the rest of rustic style decorations.

While Sansa and her mother were upstairs making decisions for the Feast in the Field, Sandor was enjoying a cigar and a glass of whiskey outside on the patio with Sansa's dad. They chatted about this and that, how their show in Maidenpool had gone, the new tax law that had been proposed, and the unusually cool summer weather. Although, all evening, Sandor had been trying to think of an excuse to talk to him about Sansa. Not to ask for her hand in marriage. That conversation would have to come much later. Sandor just wanted to see how Ned's opinion of him weighed. Thankfully, Ned brought her up first.

"So how is Sansa handling everything? Is she doing all right?"

Knowing exactly what Ned was referring to, Sandor rolled his cigar in his fingers, letting the ash on the end fall away into the ashtray. "She's doing ok. Had a rough night when we watched the news story that showed him getting out." He shook his head at the unpleasant memory. "I've been trying to keep her distracted. The trip to Maidenpool helped. With time, I'm sure she'll be ok."

Ned nodded and looked at Sandor. His face was gentle, but showed the seriousness of their conversation. "We really appreciate you looking after her. It's not easy seeing your daughter upset about anything. It's also not easy when your oldest daughter has a life of her own with a man to take care of her." Ned paused to take a sip of whiskey. "It's hard knowing your daughter is all grown up and doesn't need her dad as much as she used to."

There was no animosity in Ned's voice. Nor was he trying to make it seem like he thought Sandor was going to take Sansa away from them. "Sansa will always need you." Sandor offered.

"I know, but now she needs you more. Catelyn and I are very happy that Sansa has found the one whom she wants to be with forever."

Sandor sat back, shocked by Ned's words. _Did Sansa already tell her father about what we talked about?_ Sandor's facial expression must have given his thoughts away, because Ned answered his unspoken question. "When Sansa stopped by here the other afternoon to do something with Catelyn about the upcoming charity dinner, we all had a long conversation." Uneasily, Sandor gripped the arm of the chair he sat in with his free hand. His other hand that held his cigar he noticed, was shaking a bit, unsure of what Ned was going to say. "You must understand, we were a little...shocked...when she said that she wanted to marry you."

Sandor's heart hammered in his chest. There apparently was no need to continue the conversation. The Starks didn't seem to be too thrilled about the idea of him spending a lifetime with their daughter. Heaving a sigh, Sandor opened his mouth to speak. "Ned, I-" He stopped when Ned held up his hand.

Having seen Sandor's face fall, Ned corrected himself quickly. "Not shocked because it was you, shocked because it's only been a few months." He raised his eyebrows at Sandor. "Of course, I'll want to get to know you better before giving you our blessing..."

Sandor looked up, hopefully. Waves of relief washed over him as he listened to Sansa's father.

"But Sansa adores you. Never seen her this insistent about a man. She's got her mind and her heart set on you."

Nervously, Sandor cleared his throat. "Ned...I love your daughter. Very much. She is the one that I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Ned nodded. "And so you shall." He cocked a sideways smile. "But not tonight."

After breathing a pleased sigh, Sandor couldn't help but laugh. "Well I'm very relieved to hear you say that. I know I am not the best looking man, and at first glance, I know most people would wonder what Sansa's doing with me. But I can promise you, there's no other man that will love her the way I do."

Nodding his head, Ned leaned in closer to him. "Tell me, Sandor...do you play golf?"

As Sansa drove them across the bridge over the Blackwater Rush, she pumped Sandor for information. "Why won't you tell me what you and dad talked about?!" She whined.

Sandor tossed his head back to the headrest and laughed. "Why do you want to know?"

Pouting her full lips, Sansa replied, _"Because!_ You're up to something. I can tell."

"Oh can you now?" Sandor said in an overly sweet voice as he brushed his fingers down her upper arm. "Lucky for you, you're adorable when you whine."

Sansa huffed. _"Fine._ Keep your secrets. I'm sure mother will tell me."

Sandor shook his head. "I wouldn't be too sure about that, little bird." He couldn't resist dangling the fact that he and her father had engaged in a secret conversation in her face. "I will tell you one thing, though. Your dad said he wanted to get to know me better."

Eyebrows raised, Sansa glanced at Sandor before turning her eyes back to the road. "Really?!"

"Yea. He invited me to play golf this coming Saturday."

Nearly swerving off the road, Sansa gaped at Sandor. _"Shut up!"_

Laughing, Sandor reached over to hold the steering wheel, which resulted in him getting his hand swatted away. "I will not."

"Do you even play golf?"

"Never played. Tormund's got a set of clubs though I'm sure he'll let me borrow." A phone call from Beric interrupted their conversation.

As Sansa drove into the city, the thought of Sandor playing golf was almost too much for her to imagine, and she giggled a bit to herself. Her father had never invited any of her previous boyfriends to play golf with him. So him inviting Sandor had to be a good sign. She slowly began to piece everything together. When she had told her parents a few days ago that Sandor was the one whom she wanted to marry, they had been shocked, but had not disapproved. There was no way the fact that her father and boyfriend now had a golf "date" was a coincidence. Sandor's alarmed voice jolted her out of her thoughts.

"What hospital?"

 _Oh Gods, what's happened?!_ Sansa thought frantically to herself.

"Ok, I'll meet you there." Sandor dropped his phone to his lap and looked at Sansa. "Beric's mom is in the hospital. She's had a heart attack."

"Oh Sandor...which hospital?"

"Merciful Mother. Can you take me there?"

"Yes, of course." One hand left her steering wheel to grasp his. It was shaking and noticeably sweaty. Being Sunday evening, there were few cars on the road and they made good time to the hospital. Sansa struggled to keep up with Sandor as he strode quickly across the parking lot. He burst through the doors and addressed the receptionist between short bursts of breaths.

"Grace Dondarrion."

The aging receptionist took a look at a clipboard. "Are you of relation?"

Pausing for a breath, Sandor snapped, "She's my mother."

"I'll need to see some identification." The receptionist said flatly as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Rolling his eyes, Sandor explained, "She's my _godmother._ What room is she in?"

The receptionist shook her head. "I'm sorry, sir. Only family is allowed at this time."

Immediately, Sansa raised her hand to Sandor's back to calm him, but it was too late for soothing strokes. Startled, Sansa jumped a bit and withdrew her hand when Sandor roared next to her. "Dammit, _where is she?!"_ Wide eyed, the receptionist rolled her chair back to raise herself from it.

Fearing the woman would call for security, Sansa opened her mouth to ask her to page Robb when Beric appeared around the corner.

"Clegane..."

Sandor grabbed Sansa's hand and made his way across the waiting room. He threw his arms around Beric. As Sandor gripped him tightly, he had to fight to hold back the tears. After an embrace that Sansa was surprised lasted so long, Sandor drew Beric back and clenched his shoulders. "How is she?"

Beric heaved a ragged breath. His good eye was red and swollen. "She's ok. Stable, but very tired." He turned to lead them down the hallway. "Doctors said they wanted to keep her a few days just to be safe." Beric explained over his shoulder. His voice sounded heavy and thick with emotion.

Ever since Sansa had started dating Sandor, she had imagined and hoped to meet his godmother. But not like this. The Dondarrions were the only family he had and she knew they were very special to him. She lingered by the door as Sandor eased quietly into the hospital room. _"Grace?"_ Sansa heard Sandor whisper as he approached the bed.

 _"Sandor, dear..."_ She heard a woman say in a weak voice. Sansa craned her neck to see the owner of the voice, but Sandor's large frame hid her from view.

Sansa hid around the corner and peeked through the blinds at the window. Her heart immediately broke for Sandor and Beric. Sandor had knelt by the bed, clutching the frail hand of Grace Dondarrion. Sandor's voice shook, trying to control his sobs as he spoke to her. A man who Sansa assumed was Beric's father stood on the other side of the bed opposite of Sandor. The man had his arm around Beric's shoulder, grasping it tightly. Sansa hated hospitals. They reminded her of her recovery after her incident with Ramsay. The dull beeps and ticks of the machines they had Grace hooked to droned steadily in the background. A shiver ran through her body at the noise.

A familiar voice caused Sansa to whirl around. "Sansa?!"

She turned to see her brother, clad in surgery scrubs, striding towards her quickly. "Sansa, is everything ok?!" Robb asked frantically.

Nodding her head and meeting him a few feet away from the doorway to Grace's room, Sansa replied, "Yes, yes, well...I don't really know. Oh Robb, it's Sandor's godmother. She's had a heart attack."

Robb snatched the clipboard that was tucked into the box outside the room and scanned over it. He murmured to himself as he read. "Seventy eight years...prior heart attack seven years ago...elevated glucose levels...insulin treatment..."

"Will she be ok?" Sansa whispered as she peeked through the blinds of the window into the room again. Sandor was in the same position, talking to Grace.

"It's hard to say." Robb slid the clipboard back into its holder. "It seems she's stable for now, but probably not out of the woods yet." He put a hand on Sansa's shoulder. "She's not my patient, but I'll check in on her and let you know how she's doing."

Nodding, Sansa sighed sadly. "Thank you."

After checking his watch, Robb returned a small, reassuring smile. "Well hey, I've got to be in surgery in thirty minutes." He leaned forward to kiss Sansa's forehead. "Love you."

"I love you too, Robb." Sansa returned to her position next to the door, barely peering inside. Her face flushed pink when she saw Grace look her way.

"Who is that?" Grace asked, slowly raising her hand to the door.

Sandor wiped his face, turned and motioned for Sansa to come in. Slowly, Sansa stepped through the door and came to stand next to Sandor. "This is my girlfriend, Sansa." He rose and stepped back slightly to let Sansa approach the bed. "Sansa, this is Grace Dondarrion. My mother." The word mother hitched in his throat as he spoke it. Having been robbed of his real mother at the tender age of three, Grace was really the only mother figure he had ever known. He had a few old pictures of his real mother hidden away in a drawer, but no true memories of her.

A look of pure joy spread across Grace's face as she gazed up at Sansa. The woman had shoulder length graying hair and a pleasant face, etched with lines and wrinkles from age. Her green eyes stood out in stark comparison to her pale face. "Oh my darling, I am so happy to meet you." She held out her hand for Sansa.

Sansa took it and squeezed gently. "It's wonderful to meet you, Grace." Her skin felt dangerously cold.

Tears made the old woman's eyes glisten in the fluorescent lights of the hospital room. With a knobby, arthritic finger, she beckoned Sansa closer. "I have been praying for Sandor to find love again. He's a very special man, you know."

Sansa heard a strange noise behind her and realized Sandor had turned away, hiding his tears from the others. When he had come to live with the Dondarrions at the age of eleven, Sandor had been angry and at times, uncontrollable. Still scorned from the horrible incident with his brother, Sandor had been very weary and skeptical of affection of any sort, but Grace hadn't given up on him. She had loved him as she loved Beric, and he felt like he didn't deserve such devotion. Now a grown man, he deeply lamented every awful thing he had ever said to Grace in his younger years, in the times he had lashed out at her in his fits of rage.

As she smiled at Grace, Sansa felt her own tears sting her eyes. "Yes." She agreed. "He is very special."

A tear slid down Grace's cheek. She glanced at her husband. "Sansa dear, this is my husband, Dirk." Grace gestured to the man beside Beric.

Sansa smiled up at the older man. "Hello, Dirk."

"Great to meet you, Sansa. We have heard good things about you." He winked at Sansa. The older man had Beric's handsome features and a gentle smile. His face though was plagued with worry.

"Dirk, we must have everyone over for supper one night." Grace insisted. Her husband smiled weakly at her, seemingly hoping that there would still be happy times like that to come.

Sansa grinned and agreed. "When you're feeling better." She replied.

Grace nodded sadly. "Yes, when I'm feeling better." She sank her head back against her pillow and sighed.

Sandor could tell she was exhausted. He rested his hands on Sansa's shoulders and as he moved up behind her, he brought them down and clasped his hands around her middle. "Well you need to rest. We'll come visit you again later."

"Please do, dear. And bring this lovely girl with you."

Nodding, Sandor smiled and rested his chin on Sansa's shoulder. With his eyes still wet with tears, Sandor embraced Grace and quickly left the room, leaving Sansa next to the bed. She leaned down and gently put her arms around her.

Grace whispered into her ear. "Please don't ever give up on Sandor, dear. He has his moments of anger, but he's a good man."

Fighting her emotions, Sansa rolled her lips in her mouth and bit down. "I won't, Grace. You did a good job."

Beric had joined Sandor in the hallway. The two stood for a moment, Sandor pressing his thumb and pointer finger into his eyes, massaging away the sting he felt there. "You gonna be ok in the shop without me tomorrow?" Beric asked. "I better stay with mom."

Sandor nodded. "Yea. Yea, man I've got it covered."

Beric clapped a hand around his back and pulled him close. "Thank you."

Sandor was mostly silent on the ride back to Sansa's apartment. Every now and then, she would reach over to hold his hand. He wouldn't hold it long though, he would raise his hands to wipe his eyes. Thinking some conversation might help, Sansa opened her mouth to speak. "I saw Robb while we were at the hospital. He said she would look in on Grace from time to time."

Hearing her, but fearing he would burst into tears if he tried to use his voice, Sandor only nodded. Leaning his forehead on the cool glass, he stared out the window. He feared the worst. Grace's health had been steadily slipping downhill after her last heart attack seven years ago. She had recovered, but it had taken it's toll on her mentally and physically. A torn breath of air from his chest fogged the window he was still leaning against as Sansa maneuvered her car through the parking garage. Upstairs, Pierre greeted them at the door. His tail beat furiously against the wall as he whined, eager for some attention. Sandor picked up his leash that had been hung from a coat hook on the wall in the foyer. "I better take him out." He stooped down to clip the leash on his collar. "I'll be back."

"Would you like for me to come with you?"

Sandor shook his head. "No, it's ok."

Realizing Sandor needed some alone time, Sansa nodded and sweetly kissed his scarred cheek and let her hand linger on the other. "I love you."

"I love you too." Sandor closed the door behind him and sauntered down the hallway towards the elevator. The sun had been down for an hour or two, but the early summer air was still fairly warm. Sandor walked slowly down the sidewalk to a small park nearby with Pierre waddling behind him. The park was deserted, and Sandor was thankful for that. He walked around for several minutes, waiting for Pierre to relieve himself. Once the little dog had done his business, Sandor lowered himself onto a bench and rested his head in his hands. Concerned didn't even begin to cover how he felt. Grace was really the only parent he could remember who had ever cared for him. He supposed his biological mother had cared about him, but after the way his father had treated him, he couldn't be sure. And sure, Dirk had fathered him and loved him, but Grace had given him that unconditional love one could only get from a mother. Unable to keep all the bad memories out of his mind, Sandor allowed his thoughts to drift back to his younger years. One altercation in particular stood out amidst the others. At seventeen, Sandor had come home drunk from a party in the early hours of the morning. Worried, Grace had stayed up waiting for him. He had stumbled in, stinking of beer, cigarette smoke and vomit. He remembered Grace had been beyond upset with him, and had threatened to take his keys away. The shouting and banging of Sandor's fists was what had awoken Dirk, who had stormed in and demanded that Sandor apologize to his mother. At the time, the word mother meant little to him, and it had sent his emotions reeling. Sandor grimaced as the words he had shouted at her echoed in his mind.

 _"Mother?!"_ He had hollered angrily. _"You think I asked for this? For a new family?!"_ In a fit of rage, Sandor had swung his fist at the lamp on the end table, sending it shattering to the floor. _"Fuck! I never asked for a new mother! And you're not mine!"_ Seconds later, he had pushed past Grace, ignoring her cries and pleads for Sandor to come back inside and not to leave.

 _"Please, Sandor! Please don't leave!"_ Grace had wailed. But her words had been unheeded, as Sandor had slammed the door to his car and roared away.

That was the night Sandor had gotten arrested. He had awoken in the front seat of his Mustang just a few hours later to a cop rapping his knuckles against the glass of the window. Sandor had passed out in the parking lot of a twenty four hour convenience store just a few miles from the Dondarrion's apartment. Dirk had driven to the county jail to bail him out. He could still remember how tense the ride home from the jail had been. Thankfully, Sandor had not been charged, but only given a stiff warning. Once back home, he had apologized to Grace, although at the time, he wasn't sure if he had meant it. Boy did he sure mean it now.

What little hearing Pierre had left sent him jumping up and whining as Sandor bellowed in agony and slammed his closed fist down on the concrete bench he sat on. Ignoring the pain in his knuckles, he did it again. And again. Finally, he rose from the bench and tugged Pierre to his feet. Figuring the little dog would roll over and beg to be carried in a few feet anyway, Sandor bent and tucked him under his arm as he made his way back to Sansa's apartment.

Sansa was already in bed asleep by the time he got there. He removed his shirt and wiped Pierre's feet with it before letting him tumble into the bed next to Sansa. As he watched the dog root and scratch around, making himself comfortable, a text message came through on Sansa's phone. It was from Beric. Squinting at the bright screen, Sandor lifted it and read.

 _"Pink tulips."_ Was all it said. Not knowing the meaning, he dismissed the text from his mind as he entered the bathroom and closed the door. The hot water of the shower stung his scraped and bloody knuckles as he lathered his hair. He stood there, exhausting all the hot water the heater had to offer before toweling himself dry. Hoping that he had another clean work uniform to wear the next day, Sandor looked into Sansa's closet, into the small space she had allotted him for his work clothes. Thankfully, two uniforms hung neatly laundered and ironed. He smiled, realizing Sansa must have taken the time to prepare them for him. Absentmindedly, he gathered a handful of Sansa's hanging clothes and pulled them towards his nose. Even though the clothes had not been worn by Sansa since they had been washed and hung up, they still smelled like her. Clean smelling lavender, a hint of fresh lemons, was what her whole apartment smelled like. Suddenly missing the feeling of her skin on his, Sandor dropped the clothes from his hands and headed to the bed. Not caring if he woke Sansa or not, Sandor pulled her body close to his once he was tucked under the covers beside her. He needed to feel her comforting warmth next to him. Sansa hummed a soft little noise as she laced her fingers through his and pulled their hands up to her chest. Emotionally exhausted, Sandor fell into a fitful sleep.

When Sansa awoke the next morning, Sandor was leaning his elbows down on the bed next to her. Without opening her eyes, she smiled and reached out to pull him in for a kiss. "Leaving?" She asked as she cracked her eyes open to look at him. His eyes gave away the fact that he hadn't slept very well. Sandor nodded. "Love you..." Sansa murmured.

Not ready to leave her side just yet, Sandor remained leaned down on the bed next to her. He rested his head on her chest and savored the sound of her heartbeat. "I love you too." Sandor sat back up to look at her. "I'm going to go see Grace again after work if you'd like to come too."

Sansa smiled and nodded.

"Ok well, I'll see you when I get off. Don't forget to let Pierre out soon." Sandor instructed as he gathered one last kiss from her lips before leaving for work. He locked the deadbolt with his very own apartment key that Sansa had given him just weeks ago. The shiny metal of the new key contrasted sharply with the others on his keyring that were tarnished and worn. Pocketing his keys, Sandor turned and trudged towards the elevator.

Some time later, Sansa woke a second time to Pierre's tongue ticking her forehead. Squealing softly, she smiled as she gently pushed him away. She stretched and reached for her phone.

 _"Pink tulips."_ Beric had responded to last night's text, asking him what his mother's favorite flowers were.

Later in the morning, Sansa joined Margaery in the apartment gym for some cardio. As they stepped and sweated on the ellipticals, Sansa filled Margaery in on Grace.

"Oh, how awful for them." Margaery breathed. "Do they think she will make a full recovery?"

Sansa shrugged and wiped the sweat from her brow. "I don't know very much. Apparently she had a heart attack a few years ago."

"Gods, well I hope she will be ok. What's she like?"

Pressing her lips together in thought, Sansa replied, "I didn't get to spend that much time with her. But I can tell she's very fond of Sandor. Marg, it broke my heart to see him so upset. He is not taking it very well."

Getting winded from her workout, Margaery heaved a strained breath. "Well, just be there for him. I guess that's all you can really do in a situation like that."

After another half hour, Margaery slowed her machine and stepped off. Tired of their laboring, Sansa followed suit. Margaery accompanied her to the flower shop down the street. The two girls watched as the elderly florist arranged a large dome of pink tulips amidst sprays of greenery. "Dad asked Sandor to go play golf with him tomorrow." Sansa commented with a smirk.

Gasping, Margaery looked at Sansa and clutched her elbow. "Do you think they're going to talk about _you?!"_

Sansa shrugged as she slid her credit card towards the florist. "Don't know. Sandor wouldn't tell me what they discussed the other night while mom and I were working on stuff for the Feast in the Field."

"Ahhh...that must be a good sign!" Margaery exclaimed excitedly. "Do you think he's going to talk to your dad about _marriage?!"_

Exasperated at her own lack of knowledge, Sansa sighed. _"Ughhh.._.I don't know!" She thanked the florist and the girls left the shop.

"Well, you'll have to let me know the _minute_ you find out!" Margaery paused on the sidewalk to kiss Sansa's cheek. "I'm going to stop by Ulta. Got a date with Tormund tonight." She winked. "Bye, love!"

Sansa lugged the heavy vase back upstairs to her apartment. There were still about three hours before Sandor got off work, so Sansa showered her sweaty skin and got ready for that evening. She spent the rest of her time waiting for Sandor curled up on the couch with Pierre, reading a textbook for her summer class. Around 5:30, she heard the door swing open. Sandor emerged, dirty and exhausted from a long day's work. "Hey, babe." Sansa called from the living room.

"Hey." Sandor sighed heavily as he stripped himself of his greasy work clothes. In the early days of him staying in her apartment, Sansa had shrieked upon seeing Sandor collapse onto her couch before removing his work clothes for the first time. He was used to flopping on his leather couch after a hard day, the material of his furniture unbothered by the grime on his clothes. He had not made that same mistake since. After emptying his pockets onto the kitchen counter, he shoved his clothes into the washing machine. Sansa watched as he crossed the room closer to her. Grease smudged his tired face. Everywhere that hadn't been covered with his clothes looked dirty and streaked black. Careful not to touch the couch, Sandor leaned in to kiss her. "I'm going to get a shower. You ready to go?"

Sansa ignored the curtness in his voice. She knew Sandor didn't mean to be short with her. He was stressed and exhausted, and for good reason. "Yes, babe. I'm ready when you are. I took Pierre out just a little while ago, too."

"Good." Sandor snapped over his shoulder as he disappeared into the bedroom. Huffing a sigh, Sansa returned her attention to the paragraph she had been reading. A short time later, Sandor rejoined her in the living room, fully dressed. His eyes fell on the vase of pink flowers that had been sitting on the coffee table. "What are those for?"

Rising from the couch to collect her purse and the vase, Sansa said, "I asked Beric what Grace's favorite flower is. He told me she liked pink tulips. I got them for her today."

Suddenly sad about being so short with Sansa when he had first gotten home, Sandor quickly closed the space between them. He pulled the vase from her hands and set it back on the table. The regret was evident in his eyes as he encircled her tightly with his arms. Being incredibly stressed about Grace and borderline overwhelmed at work, Sandor had been on the verge of tears all day. But he hadn't let any fall, knowing he would never hear the end of it from the men that worked under he and Beric. "I love you, Sansa." Sandor whispered into her hair that his face was buried in. "I love you so much."

Sansa breathed in his heavenly, masculine scent. "I love you too, Sandor."


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! Or afternoon. Or Evening. Wherever you are, and whenever it is, I hope it’s good! I’m up extra early to help my future father in law work a set of cows (dewormer, vaccinations, ear tags, etc...great fun). So I figured I’d fo ahead and post the next chapter. Here we go! Another chapter! Sandor has an emotional heart to heart with his godmother, then has a most interesting conversation with Sansa's dad at the golf course. Please leave a comment to let me know what you think! Happy reading! xoxoxo

When they made it to the hospital, Sansa was weary of the receptionist, who eyed them suspiciously as they walked through the front door. However, Sandor never acknowledged her, already knowing where Grace's room was. He knocked quietly on the already open door. Grace's face was still an unsettling pale color. But it lit up when she saw Sandor and Sansa.

"Oh my!" She exclaimed when she saw the flowers Sansa held.

"Hello, Grace." Sansa said as she set the flowers down on a table near the bed. "I thought you might like something to brighten the room up a bit."

Beaming a gracious smile, Grace held her arms out for Sansa. "Oh my darling girl, thank you so much!" She drew Sansa in for a hug and lightly kissed her cheek. "How did you know these are my favorite?"

Sansa shot Beric a grin. "Beric told me."

Grace held each of her hands out for Sandor and Beric who took them immediately. "I'm so glad you all came. Poor Dirk has been here all night and day. I insisted he go home to shower and sleep in a proper bed for a little while." As she laid there, one of her hands clutching Beric's, the other grasping Sandor's, Grace gazed back and forth between the two. "Oh my boys. My sweet boys."

Sandor turned to Beric and Sansa. "Could I have a few minutes alone with her?"

Beric nodded and bent to kiss his mother's hand. "Yea, of course. I could use a snack anyway." He maneuvered around the bed to Sansa and put his arm around her, leading her to the door. "Come on, Sansa...I know where all the good vending machines are."

Sansa giggled as they left the room. "I bet you do." Figuring Sandor would want some privacy for whatever he wanted to say to Grace, she shut the door behind them.

Sandor turned back to Grace and pulled a chair close to her bed to sit in. Her sweet smile just broke his heart. He brought her hand up to his and pressed her skin close to his face. All day, he had been haunted by the memories that he had let himself think about the night before. The tears he had fought back during the day began to flow. The words he wanted to speak to her caught in his throat and he laid his forehead on the edge of the bed and cried.

"Oh darling, what is it?" Grace crooned as she stroked his shaking shoulders. "Sweetheart, please don't cry..."

Sandor was a hard man. A proud man. But seeing the woman who had shown him so much devoted love over the years, hurting and weak in a hospital bed, broke him. And he was only human. Not caring anymore about his flowing tears, Sandor lifted his head to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry. _Gods, I'm so sorry."_

Confusion wrinkled Grace's forehead. "Sorry for what?" She asked softly.

Biting his trembling lower lip, Sandor shook his head. "I'm sorry for all the horrible things I said to you growing up. All the things I put you through." He kissed her hand as his body shook with sobs. "You didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve _you."_

Grace eyed him lovingly. "Oh, sweetheart..." She reached a frail hand up to his scarred cheek and ran her fingers across the roughness. "When you came to us, you were so angry. You had been through so much. Sandor, you couldn't help what happened to you."

"Yes, but I could have helped the way I acted towards you. Grace, if I could go back and change it all, I would. I didn't mean _any_ of those things I said to you. You and Dirk were so good to me and I..."

Abruptly, Grace pressed her finger to his lips to silence him. "Sandor, it's all right. You don't have to apologize. You know we love you so very much. No matter what." She reached her free arm to the bedside table and pulled some tissues from the box that sat there. Gently, as a mother would, she dabbed the tears that had streaked his face. Sandor gave her a weak smile. "I have prayed for you for so many years, Sandor. My wish for you...my prayer for you is that you will finally be able to let the anger go that has built up inside of you for so long."

Hearing her say that made Sandor's lips quiver as fresh tears began to fall all over again. He pressed his face to the bed and let them saturate the scratchy fabric of the hospital blanket.

"Please, Sandor...let your anger go. Just let it all go."

Devastated at her urging, Sandor raised his head to look upon her again. In that moment, he had never felt smaller or more like the fearful adolescent boy he had been when he had come to live with Grace. He was not used to these feelings. His small, wavering voice sounded foreign to him. _"I don't know how..."_ He finally whispered.

Cupping his chin in her hand, Grace said gently, "You've just got to hold on to the ones who love you. Let people in and _allow_ them to love you. The ones that you will end up pushing away if you don't let this anger and resentment go. Darling, you can never change what happened to you. But you can find joy in the people and the things that you love. Let the Gods deal with the people who hurt you. If you don't let your anger go, you will be consumed by the hate in your heart. Do you remember what I told you a few weeks after you came to live with us?"

Sadly, Sandor nodded his head.

"I told you...it's ok to laugh. To be silly and have fun. It's ok to have weak moments. It's ok to seek happiness in dark times. Don't let the darkness and hatred take over your life. You must let the ones who love you...love you." Reminiscing on the turbulent memories, Grace smiled. "You were such a serious, distressed little thing. We worried and worried about you." She paused for a long, thoughtful moment. "I don't think I have _ever_ seen you cry..."

Sandor shuddered a sigh and held Grace's hand to his cheek again. Attempting to think of any sort of happy thought, he rubbed her soft, delicate skin against the scarred side of his face. "Do you remember when you tried to teach me how to dance? In the living room?"

Grace grinned at the memory. "You moved all the furniture out of the way. Grumbled and complained the whole time." She let a small laugh escape her lips.

"Well my girlfriend, Sansa...she's a bit of a society girl. She goes to all sorts of parties and balls. Sansa is _all_ into that shit-"

 _"Sandor..."_ Grace scolded sharply.

 _"Thing_. Sorry. She's all into those things. And a few weeks ago, I went to one with her." Sandor paused for a chuckle and leaned closer to her. "She made me dance."

Grace's face brightened. _"Really?_ How did you do?"

"Hah...I did all right, I guess. Didn't step on her feet too much." Sandor pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his pictures to find the one where he stood with Sansa, Tormund and Margaery. He held his phone up for Grace to see. She placed a hand over his that held the phone and pulled it closer.

 _"Oh Sandor!"_ Grace pressed her other hand to her lips. "You look so handsome." She laughed. "And Tormund, look at him!"

Grinning, Sandor laid his phone on the bed and looked back at Grace. After several minutes, she broke the silence. "Sansa is lovely, dear. Very beautiful. And kind." She added, glancing at the flowers Sansa had brought her. Bringing her eyes back to Sandor's she asked quietly, _"Is she the one?"_

Without any hesitation, Sandor replied. "Yes. Yes, mom...she's the one."

A few minutes later, Sansa and Beric returned, alerting their presence with a knock on the door. Sandor wiped his face and smiled up at Sansa. They all visited for a little while longer before Grace started complaining of a headache. Sandor promised that he would visit again tomorrow morning, before his round of golf with Sansa's dad. Out in the hallway, Beric gave him a queer look.

"You... _golfing?!"_ He guffawed with his head thrown back.

"Yea, well..." Sandor began, scratching his neck and glancing back in the room at Sansa. "Her old man wants to get to know me better." Since Sansa was well within hearing distance, he shot Beric a knowing look.

Beric grinned and nodded as he shook a finger in Sandor's face. "Uh-huh...look at you. I'm proud of you, man."

Back in the hospital room, Sansa leaned in to give Grace a hug. "Goodbye, Grace. I hope you feel better soon."

Grace sighed and rubbed her temples. "Thank you dear, me too. And thank you again for the wonderful flowers." Her hand caught Sansa's before she turned to leave. "Take good care of my Sandor." Her lip quivered as she spoke.

Biting her own lip to keep it from trembling and blinking away the tears, Sansa whispered, "I will. We'll see you later."

On the ride home, Sandor received a text from Sansa's father. Since Sandor was driving, he handed Sansa his phone for her to read him the message. "Dad wants to know what kind of beer you drink."

Sandor laughed as he pulled Sansa's car into the parking garage. "Tell him any kind."

"Well his beer of choice is Michelob Ultra, so that's probably what you'll get stuck with if you don't tell him otherwise."

Sandor shrugged and grinned. "That works for me. I don't really discriminate against beer." Even though it was golf with Sansa's dad, Sandor was looking forward to a diversion. In the few times he had hung out with Ned, he had grown fond of him. He was vastly different from his ex's dad, an uptight former military sergeant who had disliked Sandor since their initial meeting. Events with her family had been tense and tedious for Sandor since her father never hid his true thoughts of him. But that man was long gone from his life and Sandor was looking forward to spending time with his hopefully future father in law.

The following morning, Sandor left Sansa's apartment early so he could stop by the hospital and see Grace before his golfing session. Sansa regretfully said she had to stay home and work on a paper. Even though the paper wasn't due until Sunday at midnight, she didn't want to put it off any longer. Sandor knocked quietly on Grace's hospital door before entering. She was alone and awake, watching tv.

"Good morning, Sandor!" Grace said as she put the tv on mute.

Sandor smiled a hello and pulled a chair to her bedside. "Where is everyone?"

"Oh, you just missed Beric. He was here last night with me." Grace gestured to the couch that had a blanket and pillow strewn across it. "Dirk will be here shortly." She stroked Sandor's arm that he had laid on the bed next to her. He was happy to see that she was looking considerably more alert and healthy that morning.

"Do you want me to bring you anything? You must be bored out of your mind."

Laughing, Grace shook her head. "No, dear. I'm fine, thank you. I'm satisfied just to watch whatever I want on the tv without Dirk to tell me otherwise."

Sandor grunted as he looked over his shoulder at the tv that hung on the wall. Women on the screen were crowded around a talk show table, oohing and aahing over some book. He turned back to Grace and rested his chin on his arm.

Smiling sweetly, Grace lightly gripped his hand. "So today's the big day...golf with Sansa's father. Are you nervous?"

"A little." He confessed with a small laugh.

"Well I'm sure it will be just fine."

Sandor sighed. "I hope so." He began to tell Grace all that he and Ned had talked about pertaining to Sansa. Sandor told her that Ned had wanted to get to know him better, and he expressed his concerns about having lied to Sansa's family about how he had gotten his scars. "I don't know, I mean...I panicked when they asked and kinda just made up a half truth."

Grace sighed and clicked her tongue at him. "Well, I doubt anyone would blame you for not wanting to tell the whole truth. It's not a very pleasant story."

It really wasn't. How he had gotten his scars was something Sandor wouldn't mind forgetting about completely. His scars and how he got them was something he would have to deal with for the rest of his life. But he wasn't sure if he wanted for the rest of Sansa's family to know the horrible story. Sandor didn't want for them to think that Sansa would eventually be marrying into some sadistic dysfunction.

"But being open and honest with someone usually wins them over, you know." Grace continued with a wink.

Nodding, Sandor sighed. He checked the time on his phone. "Well, I've got to run. I still need to go home to shower and change." He rubbed the smooth skin of Grace's arm. "Will you be ok here by yourself?"

"Of course, dear." Grace insisted as she held up her call button. "I've got my button right here." She gave Sandor a smile. "Good luck today."

A slight smirk slid across his face. "Thanks." Sandor bent forward to hug Grace goodbye. He kissed her on the cheek. Before he raised up, Grace caught his face in her hands.

"I love you dear...so much."

Covering one of her hands with his, Sandor smiled. "I love you too, mom." He kissed her palm before she released her gentle hold on his face. "I'll see you later." He assured her. As he stepped through the doorway, Sandor turned to give Grace one last smile and wave before he headed down the hallway.

When Sandor got back to his apartment, he saw that Tormund had already stopped by that morning and left his golf clubs for Sandor in the entryway. A bright yellow sticky note was stuck to the driver.

 _'Good luck, fucker. Love, Tormund.'_ The note was written in Tormund's scrawling chicken scratch handwriting.

Sandor chuckled and rolled his eyes as he grabbed the sticky note and pressed it to the refrigerator. Knowing he and Sandor wore the same size shoes, Tormund had deposited his size fourteen golf shoes next to the bag of clubs as well. Sandor laughed through his groan as he rolled the black and white shoes over with his foot, eyeing the tread on the bottom. Sansa had told him that the golf course they were to play at enforced a dress code, so Sandor would have to wear khakis and a collared shirt. Grumbling, he rummaged through his closet. He couldn't remember the last time he had worn his khaki pants. Thankfully, they were hung neatly on the rack. After a quick shower, Sandor pulled the pants and a black polo shirt on his body and threaded his belt through the loops. He had never been satisfied with how a baseball hat looked with his long hair, so he pulled his black Hurley hat off his head and scraped his hair back into a low ponytail, which he looped and secured with an elastic band. The term man bun was something he had always hated. But the hat looked better with his hair pulled back rather than hanging loose. Looking in the mirror, he laughed in spite of himself. He could almost pass for a real golfer. Almost. Sandor frowned into the half full pack of cigarettes he had been carrying around. He stuffed the half full pack in his pocket and took another fresh box from his kitchen drawer and zipped it into the side pocket of the golf bag. A little before 11:00, a message came to his phone. It was Ned, saying he was about to pull up. Sandor heaved a sigh before hoisting the golf bag over his shoulder and heading out the door.

A black Suburban with tinted windows was parked at the curb. When Sandor stepped out onto the sidewalk, the back hatch opened. Sandor slung the bag into the bag amidst two others. He caught sight of Robb's auburn curls in the backseat and huffed a relieved sigh, realizing that it wouldn't just be he and Sansa's dad that day. Robb greeted him as he slid into the back seat next to him.

"Well look at you!" Robb exclaimed as he slapped Sandor on the shoulder.

"Hello, Sandor." Ned said as he turned his body from the front passenger seat to look at him.

"Hope this is ok to wear," Sandor said with uncertainty. "Sansa told me I had to wear a collared shirt."

"That'll do just fine." Robb replied. "Won't make a difference what you wear, I'll still beat you."

Not doubting him, Sandor chuckled and Ned rolled his eyes. "Robb fancies himself a professional golfer." He motioned to the cooler that sat in the third row seat of the Suburban. "Just wait, he'll get some beers in him and forget which end of the club to swing."

The Yeti cooler in the back was one of the largest ones Sandor had ever seen. He reached back and cracked the lid open. It was packed to the brim with ice and beer.

"Hand me one, Sandor." Robb whispered and nudged him with his elbow.

Sandor began to reach in the cooler but stopped when he heard Ned's voice. _"Not_ while we're driving." He gestured to their driver. "You don't want to get poor Alec in trouble, do you?"

Sandor was relieved once again when they pulled into the parking lot of the country club golf course and saw that there were not many people there that day. _The fewer people here to see me make an ass of myself, the better,_ Sandor thought to himself as he secured his golf bag behind the golf cart he and Ned would share. Robb rented his own to carry the monstrous cooler around with them.

As they warmed up at the tee box of the first hole, Sandor admitted to Ned and Robb, "I've got to warn you, I have never played golf before."

Robb swung his driver and looked over his shoulder at the other two men behind him. "That's all right, Sandor. You couldn't be worse than dad." Robb added in a low voice.

Ned glanced over at them as he set his feet up to take his first swing. "I heard that, you ass." He raised his driver and brought it down smoothly to meet the ball with a loud _whack._

Sandor and Robb laughed at Ned's retort. During the first few holes, Robb showed Sandor which clubs to use and how to use them. Turns out, the only part of golfing Sandor was really good at was sending the ball sailing down the fairway. It didn't always fly straight, but he sent the balls a lot further than his two companions did. Being overly stressed, it felt good to hit something and Sandor actually found that he enjoyed playing the sport immensely. The three men laughed and drank and putted their way through the eighteen hole course. Golf, Sandor found out, was not a quick game. It took hours for them to get through the course. But Sandor didn't mind. He liked the company of Robb and Ned. They were both laid back and down to earth. By the thirteenth hole, they were all quite drunk. Ned paused to light a cigar. Sandor propped himself against the hood of the golf cart and lit a cigarette. Robb was busy whacking ball after ball down the fairway. After a length of time, he turned to his father and Sandor.

"So dad, the question of the day is... _are_ we going to allow this man to marry our Sansa?"

Taken by complete surprise, Sandor choked on and spit out his mouthful of beer. Borderline panicked, his eyes darted uncomfortably back and forth between the two Stark men as he wiped his mouth. Sandor had expected them to ask about his relationship with Sansa, but hadn't expected _this._

"Oh Robb, give the man a break." Ned said as he approached a still coughing Sandor to slap him on the back. "We don't want to kill poor Sandor."

Holding a hand up, Sandor cleared his throat. "I'm good, just...wasn't expecting that."

Robb laughed and sent another ball sailing. "Well it's as good a time as any to talk about it! So tell us, you got any skeletons in the closet? Outstanding arrest warrants? Dead bodies under the bed? Billions stashed away in some offshore account? _Secret double life?"_ He laughed too loud at his joking.

Sandor laughed along with him. "Gods, I _wish_ I were that interesting." Crossing his arms, he knew it was the perfect time to come clean with them. "Well, I do have to tell you...I wasn't entirely honest with you when I first met you two." Nervously, Sandor's eyes drifted back and forth between the two men, whose full attention he now held. Robb had stopped swinging his club and leaned against it, listening carefully. "When you asked about my scars, I lied." He took a deep breath for the words that were to come. "My brother gave me these scars."

Not fully understanding what Sandor meant, Ned commented, "Yes, you were roughhousing with your brother..."

Sandor shook his head. "He caught me playing with a toy that had been his. I was pretty young at the time, he was older. He got mad and took me by the neck and pushed my face into the fireplace."

Stunned at his confession, all Ned could do was stare, his mouth agape. Sandor continued. "So yea...my brother and I weren't exactly what you would call _close_ growing up."

Robb raised his eyebrows and let a low whistle escape his lips. "Is your brother-"

"Dead." Sandor cut him off. "Died a few years ago from a heroin overdose. I hadn't seen him in years. After my dad died, I went to live with my godparents and he moved to Lannisport to live with my uncle."

Finding his voice, Ned asked, "Does Sansa know this story?"

Sandor nodded and gulped from his beer. "Oh yea. I told her not too long after we met. I just..." he let his voice trail off. "I didn't really know what to say when you asked me about it at dinner that night. Didn't want to shock everyone."

Feeling remorse for Sandor, Robb apologized for having put him on the spot the night he had inquired about his scars.

Ned nodded in agreement. "Well, Sandor, I appreciate your honesty. It takes a mighty big character to admit horrible wrongdoings to new people in your life. It seems like you have done very well for yourself though, from what I have seen."

Robb entered the conversation again. "What dad's trying to say is, what you told us doesn't change our thoughts of you, Sandor." He set himself up for another swing and looked over his shoulder. "Which are good thoughts, by the way."

Perhaps it was all the beer he had consumed, but Sandor suddenly felt emboldened enough to ask the question he had been dying to spit out. "So what's the answer to the question, Ned? About Sansa and I?"

Ned glanced thoughtfully at Robb, who only winked back at him. He patted Sandor on the back. "Ask me again on the eighteenth hole."

Sandor nodded and laughed. Over the next five holes, Robb and Ned continued grilling him with questions. Not ones that Sandor was reluctant to answer. Just questions about his life with the Dondarrions, his education and job, his views on certain things, future plans for himself, and other things of the sort. Sandor gladly answered them as straightforward and honestly as he could. When they reached end of the eighteenth hole, an amused Sandor watched as Robb chased his ball around and around the hole with his putter. He was content with his first ever golf experience, and had even agreed to make it a fairly regular outing with them. When they sat back down in their carts once they were done, Sandor took advantage of the opportunity to ask his question again.

"So, we're at the eighteenth hole..." Sandor prompted Ned with a slight grin.

"Yes...we are." Ned began. He propped his feet on the dashboard of the golf cart and sipped from his bottle of beer. Interested in what his father was about to say, Robb leaned on the frame of the golf cart to listen. "Well, Sandor...I've got to say, I admire your honesty. You seem to have a good work ethic, and a kind heart. And I'm convinced that your love for Sansa is genuine and lasting. All traits that I hold in very high regards." He paused to put his hand on Sandor's shoulder. "Sansa is crazy about you, and Cat has told me I would be a fool to not allow it. When the time is right, of course...I would be proud to have you marry my daughter." As Ned spoke his last words, he held his hand out to Sandor. Robb laughed and clapped his hands together once in enthusiastic approval.

Elated and shocked at Ned's words, Sandor put his hand in Ned's and shook it heartily. Never in a thousand years had he expected his day to end like this, with Ned's blessing to marry his daughter. It all felt very surreal. The feeling he had in his chest at that moment eclipsed any doubts he had ever had about Sansa and himself. "Well..." Sandor began. "I don't know what to say besides...thank you. I'm very glad to hear you say that. I've got to tell you, I was not expecting your approval so soon."

Ned shrugged. "Well, you two are adults who can choose to take things at their own pace."

"My wife and I had only been dating for six months when I proposed." Robb chimed in. He rolled his eyes and continued. "I only hope for your sake Sansa doesn't want some fifteen thousand dollar ring like Talisa did!"

Sandor gawked and laughed as he mentioned the cost of his wife's ring. "Well you've got that doctor's salary to pull from." They all shared a laugh at his comment. Sandor shook his head. "Nah, I've got plenty saved up. Shouldn't be a problem." He looked at Ned. "When the time's right."

"When the time's right." Ned agreed.

It was a little after dark by the time Sandor was dropped off at his apartment. Sansa had texted him, wanting to know what he wanted to do for dinner that night. Already being drunk, Sandor had suggested just staying in and ordering takeout, which Sansa agreed to.

After he stepped out of the Suburban and drug his golf bag out of the back, Sandor turned back to Ned's open window. "Thanks again, Ned. I really enjoyed today. And thank you for, well...you know."

Giving him a genuine smile, Ned replied, "Anytime, Sandor. I hope we can do this again soon."

Sandor waved and said goodbye to Robb in the backseat before turning and entering his apartment. He was surprised when Pierre greeted him at the door. What he saw in the kitchen surprised him more. Sansa was standing at the counter, slicing a loaf of French bread. She looked up and smiled at him.

After laying the golf bag on the floor, Sandor threw his arms out. "Honey, I'm home!" He hollered.

Sansa laughed when she saw him. "Well you look like you had fun." She commented. His shirt was halfway untucked and his hat was on backwards. The sun had definitely gotten the best of him. His face and arms were red. "How did it go?"

Drawing her in for a hug, Sandor exclaimed, "It went good! Very good. I'm shit at golf, but it's whatever. I had fun."

Laughing at his comment, Sansa breathed him in. He smelled like sweat and beer, but she didn't care. She had missed him that day and was yearning for his touch. "What did you and dad and Robb talk about?"

"Ahh...that's for me to know and for you to... _not_ find out."

Sansa rolled her eyes. _"Ugh..."_ She scoffed. Completing her paper had been almost impossible that day, her mind was so fixated on what her father, brother and Sandor could have been discussing. But she knew Sandor would not give in and chose not to push the issue any further. "Well I hope you're hungry." She said, gesturing to the pot of spaghetti that simmered on the stove.

Sandor slid a hand inside the t-shirt that she wore and stroked the smooth skin he found there. _"Starving..."_ He growled in her ear. But dinner would have to wait, for Sandor had other things that he was hungry for.

Those things were on Sansa's mind too, for she threw her arms around him and met his lips with passionate fervor. The urgency of her kiss was all Sandor needed to sweep the items on the kitchen island to the floor before raising her hips to the cool granite. Empty grocery bags, his wallet, keys, and phone all hit the floor with a clatter. In an instant, he had Sansa's shirt and bra thrown to the floor. A small, but teasing smile crossed her lips as Sansa immediately began to tug at his polo shirt. The rest of their clothes quickly fell to the floor. As he leaned Sansa back on the surface, Sandor began to greedily lay kisses down her neck, pausing at her breasts to brush his lips against her tightened nipples. He bit down on one causing Sansa to writhe beneath him. Sansa could feel his stiffened manhood pressing against the apex of her legs as she wrapped her legs around his body. Feeling that she was already wet for him, he wasted no time entering her in one powerful forward motion that nearly undid her then. After his initial thrust, Sandor had to pause for a moment, knowing that if he kept moving he would explode from feeling her exquisite tightness. Once Sandor composed himself with a steadying breath, he began to pump his length in and out. Sansa's body moved rhythmically in time with her cries of ecstasy Sandor brought by his sharp thrusts. Overcome with his love for her, Sandor reached down to stroke her cheek. This woman was _his._ He now had permission to make her his in every way possible. But for now he was satisfied just to lay claim to her body right there on his kitchen counter. Sansa leaned longingly into his hand.

 _"Oh Gods..."_ She whispered breathlessly. "Oh yes, harder, Sandor... _please don't stop!"_

"Wasn't planning on it..." Sandor rumbled to her as he began to pound her relentlessly. He had to hold her hips in place so he wouldn't send her tumbling to the floor over the back of the kitchen island. Sansa moaned loudly, her hands locked onto his shoulders as she began to feel the red hot heat of her peak about to explode in her body. Pleasure creased her brow and drew her mouth into a gasp as she cried out.

 _"Oh Sandor!"_ Sansa screamed, urging him on to keep the sensations spiraling through her body. The maddening heat of her clenching walls finished Sandor, his cock spasming inside of her as he climaxed. When the waves of pleasure in his body subsided, Sandor withdrew himself from her slit with a grunt and playfully slapped his cock against her folds. A jolt of residual pleasure sent Sansa's body jerking underneath him as she laughed. Seeing Sandor still wearing nothing but his backwards baseball cap and socks made her laugh again as he gently set her on the floor.

"You're so _bad."_ Sansa commented as she kissed his neck.

"Would you want me any other way?" Replied Sandor. With a coy smile on her face, Sansa shook her head.

They ate their meal naked on the stools at the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. The laughter and conversation that they shared that evening set Sandor's mind completely at ease. For the first time since hearing of Grace's heart attack, Sandor felt relaxed. Sansa had a certain way of doing that for him. She was his peace in the world, and she was glad to give it to him. After dinner was done and the kitchen was cleaned up, they bathed together in Sandor's roomy shower. They laughed, touched and kissed and satisfied each other's bodies for a second time that night against the cool tile of the shower wall. The intimacy of the evening continued as they lay flush together in Sandor's large, comfortable bed.

The alarm clock on Sandor's bedside table read 5:23 AM when Sansa heard Sandor's phone ringing. Using her elbow, she nudged Sandor, but got no response. She tried again, but his loud, steady snoring continued. The ringing stopped, only to start again seconds later. Blinking the sleepiness away from her eyes, Sansa sat up and reached across Sandor's body for his phone. In the darkness, she squinted against the brightness of the screen. It was Beric. Fear seized Sansa's throat and her pulse quickened. There was only one reason he could be calling this early in the morning. Harder this time, Sansa nudged Sandor.

 _"Sandor!"_ She said sharply.

Hearing the urgency of Sansa's voice, Sandor's eyes flew open. "What? What is it?" The ringing stopped.

"Beric's calling you..."

Snapping to attention, Sandor grabbed the phone from Sansa's hands and scrambled from the bed. His fingers fumbled against the screen as he called Beric back. Heart pounding and fearing the worst, Sandor stumbled into the living room. _"Beric?"_

Sansa quickly tumbled out of the bed after him and stood frozen at his side. In the quietness of the apartment, she could hear Beric's distraught voice on the other end of the phone.

_"Mom's dead."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadness ensues... :(


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! It’s another beautiful day here in Mississippi...beautiful enough to work another set of cows, at least! 😂 Here’s the next chapter. Sansa makes an important discovery and helps Sandor cope with his loss. Leave me some love so I’ll have something to look forward to reading when I’m done with these damn bovines. Shouldn’t say it like that...they’re our way of life, and a good income. But DAMN...I’m sleepy as hell this morning. Happy reading! xoxoxo

Sansa couldn't remember exactly what Sandor had thrown at the wall first, his phone, or the empty beer bottle that had been sitting on the end table. The lamp was next, being sent forcefully to the floor by his fist. Fearing she would accidentally be struck if she tried to console him, Sansa stood back with her hands over her mouth as Sandor took his wrath out on his apartment. Of course, Sandor would never strike her on purpose, but the way his fists were flailing about, meeting anything he could reach, Sansa thought it would be wise to stay away. His cries of agony were heart wrenching to listen to. It was Sansa who now felt helpless this time.

When Sandor's body finally stilled and he looked like he was about to collapse onto the couch, Sansa took a tentative step towards him. In one last fit of anger, Sandor bent slightly and hooked his fingers around the bottom of the coffee table. With an angry wail and a mighty heave, he flipped the table over, sending the items that had been sitting on it scattering around on the floor. He sunk his body down on the couch and put his head in his hands.

"Sandor?" Sansa asked as she hesitantly stepped towards him. The only response she got were his shaky breaths being pressed into the palms of his hands. Sansa lowered herself to the couch next to Sandor and slowly reached for him. Nervously, she pulled his hands away from his face. When he allowed her to move his hands, she put them around her and pulled his trembling body against hers.

"Oh baby I'm so sorry," was all Sansa could say as she held him close. She really didn't know what else to tell him. What was there to say to console Sandor in this situation? All Sansa could do was hold him. He pressed his forehead to hers. The tears that flowed from his eyes mixed with her own as they fell to her face. Comforting a distraught man was something Sansa didn't have much experience with. Especially a man as masculine as Sandor. She had only seen her father cry once that she could remember. It had been during her recovery from Ramsay in the hospital. It had been every bit unpleasant and heartbreaking as it was now. The sky outside was steadily growing lighter. Sansa crooned her 'I'm sorries' again and again. She wasn't sure how long she held Sandor. It could have been minutes or hours. But when he finally pulled away, the bright sun was streaming through the windows. She watched as he bent to retrieve his phone.

As Sandor gazed at the broken screen, he pressed the pad of his thumb to it to see if it would still work. When it remained blank, he tried the buttons on the side. Now angry at his useless phone, he hurled it to the hardwood floor, shattering the rest of it to pieces. Sansa rose from her spot on the couch to retrieve the broom and dustpan from the closet.

"Go and put some shoes on." Sandor barked at her. Broken glass from the beer bottle and his phone screen could be anywhere and the last thing he wanted to deal with at that time was a bloody foot. Without saying a word, Sansa retreated into the bedroom and came out wearing shorts, one of Sandor's band logo t-shirts and the flip flops she had worn over to his place the evening before. Sandor opened a cabinet in the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels. It was more than halfway gone, but it would have to do. He passed Sansa as she came out of the bedroom. The whiskey bottle in his hand caught her eye.

"Sandor..."

Laying back against the headboard and pulling the covers up around his waist, Sandor glared at her. _"What?"_ He asked sharply, taking a long pull from the bottle.

Swallowing hard, Sansa said, "Nothing. Just...it's seven thirty in the morning, Sandor."

He sniffed and took another gulp. "And?"

Shaking her head, Sansa dismissed her earlier comment. "Do you want me to make you some breakfast?" She asked quietly.

Sandor slammed the bottle on the end table. A few drops of the brown liquid splashed out of the opening onto his hand. His voice was angry and mocking. "I just heard that the woman who practically raised me has passed away, and you want to make breakfast...like there's nothing wrong?"

Hurt by his curtness, Sansa's mouth hung open. "Well it seems like a better alternative than what you're doing now."

"I just need to be alone right now." Sadly, Sandor reached for the bottle again. He hated that he was like this. He had never been able to handle devastating situations well. Whenever something horrible happened, like the time he had broken up with Sansa, Sandor always retreated into a dark place in his mind and craved solitude. This time was apparently going to be no different. Heaving a sigh, Sandor tried to calm his voice. "Just close the door." When he saw the way Sansa's face fell, he added softly, _"Please, baby."_

Sansa picked her phone up from the nightstand and left Sandor to drink and be sad in isolation. The next several minutes were spent sweeping up broken glass and mopping the area where the beer had made the floor sticky. It took some muscle, but Sansa was also able to get the coffe table upright. Pierre whined to go out. Taking her phone with her, Sansa opened the door and stepped out onto the patio. After she settled in a chair, she scrolled through her contacts to call Beric. After a few rings, she heard his deep voice. Naturally, he sounded tired and grief-stricken.

_"Hello?"_

"Hey Beric. I'm so sorry. Gods, I don't know what to say."

Sansa heard Beric heave a ragged sigh on the other end. _"Thanks, Sansa. Its alright, you don't have to say anything. There apparently was significant damage to her heart during the attack and she went into cardiac arrest early this morning. Dad was with her. I couldn't get there in time."_ She heard him inhale and then exhale a long breath, and figured he was probably smoking a cigarette. _"How's Sandor doing? I tried to call him back a while ago."_

It was Sansa's turn to heave a sigh. "Yes, well he threw his phone against the wall and broke it."

Through his sorrow, Beric couldn't help but let a weak chuckle escape. _"Yea, that sounds like something he would do. What's he doing now?"_

"He's in his room, drinking whiskey."

_"Also sounds like him. Listen, Sandor doesn't handle stuff like this very well. Never has. Please be patient with him, Sansa. Just be there for him."_

Even though Beric couldn't see, Sansa nodded her head. "I will, of course. But what about you? Are you alone...are you ok?"

 _"Lola is here with me. She got into King's Landing last night."_ Beric paused to clear his throat. _"I'll be ok."_

"Well please, please let me know if you need anything. Anything."

 _"Thanks, Sansa. I will. I guess I'll call your phone when we get everything figured out about her funeral."_ The word funeral caught in his throat. _"Tell Sandor I'm not opening the garage tomorrow. I'll let him know about work, might be a few days."_

"Ok, Beric."

After they said goodbye and hung up, Sansa let herself and Pierre back into the apartment. He immediately went to the bedroom door and scratched the wood. Looking back over at Sansa, he whined. "No, no Pierre." Sansa flopped down on the couch and patted the leather seat next to her. "Over here." The dog sat and stubbornly looked at her. Realizing he probably couldn't hear her calling him, she hoisted herself off the couch and collected him off the floor. On her way back to the couch, Sansa pulled a blanket from the recliner and covered herself and Pierre with it as she laid back down. Her heart broke for Sandor. How horrible it must be to have the only mother figure he had ever known to show him love and kindness to be taken from the world too soon. She knew Sandor didn't mean to push her away. Everyone deals with grief a certain way, and he had his own. A few tears escaped her tired eyes as she hugged Pierre's fat body to her chest.

Hours later, Sansa woke. She checked the time on her phone. It was past noon. Deciding she had better check on Sandor, Sansa tossed the blanket aside and cracked the bedroom door open. She heard him snoring lightly. Sansa crossed the room and came to his side of the bed. The nearly empty bottle of whiskey was pressed to his chest as he slept. Slowly, she unwrapped his fingers from the neck of the bottle and set it on the nightstand. Feeling her hands on his, Sandor jerked his head towards her and opened his eyes.

"Hey." He whispered weakly.

"Hi."

Sandor rolled his head across the headboard to look at the alarm clock and groaned. Picking up the whiskey bottle, Sansa turned to leave, but Sandor caught her wrist. She turned, expecting him to tell her to give the bottle back. Instead, he pulled her down to his body. She set the bottle back on the nightstand and pressed her face to his chest.

"You know I love you, right?" His voice vibrated deep in his chest.

Sansa smiled. "Yes. Yes, I know." She sat back up and eased herself up onto the bed next to him. Sandor scooted his body slightly to give her room. Sansa lightly brushed a few strands of hair away from his face. "I love you too. Very much. And I am so sorry about Grace."

Sandor sniffed in a shuddering breath, but said nothing. His eyes were bleary and red from a combination of sleepiness, the whiskey, and from crying.

"I spoke to Beric." Sansa commented as she ran her fingers lightly up and down his bicep. "He said she went into cardiac arrest early this morning." Beneath the hairs of his beard, Sansa could see his jaws clenching and unclenching.

Sorrow pulled at the corners of Sandor's twitching mouth. "Was there anyone there with her when she..." Unable to finish his question, Sandor let his voice fade.

"Beric's dad was."

Sandor sighed as he nodded his head.

"Are you hungry? You should probably eat something after drinking all that." Sansa said as she gestured her head to the bottle on the nightstand.

"No. I'm just tired."

Sansa smiled sweetly. "Well then rest. Beric wanted me to tell you he's not opening the shop tomorrow."

Sandor nodded again and slid down until his head rested on the pillows. Sansa bent down to kiss him and then turned to leave again. "Please stay with me." His voice sounded so young and pleading, it alarmed Sansa marginally. "I mean, you don't have to stay in _here_ with me...just...just don't leave me."

With a concerned look, Sansa asked softly, "I thought you needed to be alone-"

"I need you more."

Sansa smiled at him. It might have been the whiskey making him say those words, but Sansa didn't care. The love she felt for him in her heart was overflowing. "I'll be here. I won't go anywhere."

Sandor closed his eyes and pulled the blankets over his head.

There was schoolwork to be done that day, so after heating up some leftover spaghetti, Sansa settled herself back on the couch. Sandor's laptop was laying on a shelf under the end table. _Thank goodness Sandor didn't smash this,_ Sansa thought as she reached for it. She needed to get started on a paper for school and she had brought her books with her, but had left her own laptop behind at her apartment. Taking a bite of spaghetti, she opened the laptop. What she saw on the screen almost made her choke on the hot noodles.

Most men, Sansa had found out, had porn on their laptops. The open internet browser on Sandor's laptop was the furthest thing from porn imaginable. There on Sandor Clegane's laptop screen, was the Valyrian Jewelers website page. Sansa sat, frozen in place, her eyes blinking stupidly at the screen. Before examining the page further, she cocked her head and listened for noises in the bedroom. A relieved breath shot from her chest when all she heard was Sandor's snoring. Her eyes flew back to the screen. What she saw caused her heart to pound in her chest. Not only had Sandor been looking at the Valyrian Jewelers website, he had been looking at _engagement rings._ And not only that, she realized, he had made an _account._ Sansa didn't usually snoop through anything. Phones, laptops, whatever. _But this isn't really snooping,_ she convinced herself as she eyed the screen. She hadn't been getting on Sandor's laptop to spy, expecting to find something. _That's snooping,_ she reasoned. Her finger trembled slightly as she maneuvered it across the tracking pad. She placed the arrow over "saved items" and clicked. A low gasp escaped her lips as she scanned thumbnails of the few rings Sandor had saved. She turned to Pierre, who was drooling at the bowl of spaghetti.

"Sandor's got good taste..." Sansa told the dog in a whisper.

Every ring he had saved was exactly the style Sansa longed for. A large, cushion cut center stone in a halo setting with a delicate diamond band, was what Sansa had always wanted. Giddy with excitement and not being able to help herself, she bounced up and down on the couch slightly. Pierre groaned and moved to the opposite end. Realization hit her as she inspected each ring. Sansa opened her phone and compared the rings she had taken screenshots of with the ones Sandor had saved on the website. One of two things had to have happened. Either Sandor had asked Margaery about rings and she had guided him in the right direction, or Sandor had looked through her phone and had seen the ones she had saved to her pictures. At once, Sansa decided she didn't even care if Sandor had been through her phone. It wasn't like she had anything to hide, anyway. She finished her bowl of spaghetti as she perused the pictures and descriptions of each ring. The most expensive ring Sandor had saved was a little over nine thousand dollars. Even though she had grown up extremely wealthy, Sansa had been taught the value of a dollar and was conditioned not to hold costs of material things of high importance. The rings she had saved to her phone were just examples of what she wanted. Sansa had in no way expected Sandor to spend that much on a ring. Nor had she figured he would _want_ to spend that much on one.

"I guess it's up to him though, Pierre." All she got in response was the dog's soft snoring. Not knowing how observant Sandor was when it came to his computer, Sansa carefully navigated back to the screen that was up when she opened the laptop. She slid it back under the end table, figuring she would just read a few chapters in her textbook. It would be horrible to be caught by Sandor looking at the rings on his laptop. Even if he came out of the bedroom and she was innocently typing a paper, he would realize she had seen the screen upon opening it.

Sansa put her empty bowl in the sink and went out to the patio again, this time to call Margaery.

"Hey, Marg...so I guess you and Tormund have heard..."

_"Oh Gods, yes! Beric called Tormund early early this morning. Tormund insisted on going to wherever Beric was, but Beric told him not to."_

"Well, I talked to Beric. He said Lola was with him and that he was ok. There will be another time for us to get together to be there for him."

_"How is Sandor doing?"_

Sansa sighed and shook her head. "Not good. He drank half a bottle of Jack Daniels and then went back to sleep. He's still sleeping now."

Margaery clicked her tongue on the other end. _"Shit...poor Sandor."_

"I've got to ask you something though, Marg...Swear you'll tell the truth, even if he asked you not to tell me."

_"What is it?"_

"Has Sandor asked you about what style of engagement ring I would like?"

_"No girl!"_

"You swear, Margaery?"

_"Yes, I swear! Why?! Tell me!"_

Sparing no detail, Sansa proceeded to tell Margaery what she had found on Sandor's laptop. Margaery seemed just as excited as Sansa was.

_"Oh my Gods! You lucky dog. Are you going to tell him you saw the rings?!"_

Pausing to think for a moment, Sansa replied, "No. And you can't say anything to Tormund about it either. I don't want to stress Sandor out any more than he already is. Plus, I feel a little guilty for acting so excited about it when his world just came crashing down."

_"Yes, it is very sad. I just hate that for them. I'm glad Beric has someone with him though."_

Sansa sighed. "Yes, me too. I'll probably be staying with Sandor for the next few days to help him through everything."

_"Ok well you let me know if you guys need anything. Love you girl."_

"I love you too, Marg."

Sansa kept herself busy at Sandor's apartment for the next few days. Not that it was overly dirty, but she cleaned his apartment to give her something to do besides schoolwork. So they wouldn't have to go anywhere, Sansa cooked meals for Sandor and herself. He didn't have much of an appetite, but Sandor ate what Sansa brought to him to appease her. At bedtime, Sansa would hold Sandor as he sobbed into her neck. Sometimes, he would hold her so tightly she thought for sure she would bruise. The only two times Sansa left the apartment was to go to Whittaker's Formal Wear to get Sandor something to wear to the funeral, since the only nice thing in his closet was his tuxedo. The other time she left wad to return to her own apartment to gather her own outfit for the funeral.

The funeral was planned for that Wednesday. At the wake the evening before the funeral, Sansa stood at Sandor's side as they stared blankly into Grace's open casket. Sansa gripped Sandor's arm as he stood solemnly next to her.

"She looks beautiful." Sansa commented.

Bitterly, Sandor gritted his teeth together. _She looks dead,_ was all he could think. But he just nodded and said nothing. Beric and his father were doing ok. As well as could be expected in their situation. Sansa hugged Lola and told her she was happy to see her.

"Yes, it's good to see you, too. I only wish it were under happier circumstances."

"Well maybe you, Margaery and I can have lunch together one day while you're in town."

Lola smiled at Sansa and squeezed her hand. "I'd like that very much."

Visitors filed in and out of the room to pay their respects to the Dondarrions. Tormund and Margaery came and went as well. Towards the end of the visiting hours, Sandor, Beric and Lola went outside to smoke. Sansa stood with them, wanting a break from the sad atmosphere of the room. As Sandor blew smoke out into the night, an approaching woman caught his eye.

"Beric..." he began darkly, "what is the _one_ thing that could make this night get any worse?"

Beric followed Sandor's wrathful gaze and froze, his cigarette raised halfway to his lips. "Oh Gods, what the fuck is she doing here?"

Walking across the parking lot towards them was Audrina. Sansa recognized her instantly. The tattoos on her arms were covered with long, flowing black sleeves, but she had memorized her face. Sansa's mouth suddenly went dry as her heart plummeted into her stomach. She never imagined she would ever actually come face to face with Audrina. Immediately, Sansa longed for Margaery to still be there with her. Her quick wit and smart mouth would be enough to keep Audrina at bay.

"Hello." Audrina said cooly as she came to a stop in front of them. She reached out to Beric for a hug. "Beric, so sorry to hear about your mother."

Halfheartedly, Beric returned the hug and mumbled a thank you. Audrina turned to Sandor. "Hello, Sandor."

Anger simmered inside Sandor's core as he grunted a lackluster greeting.

Without acknowledging Sansa or Lola, Audrina kept speaking to Sandor. "I tried to call you yesterday. A few times."

"My phone is broken." _Not that I would have answered anyway,_ he added silently.

Audrina nodded and fidgeted with the strap on her purse. Sansa could tell she looked nervous, but wondered why. "Sandor, could...I maybe speak to you?" She shot the others a displeased look. "Alone?"

Sandor threw his cigarette on the ground and scuffed it out with his boot. "No. No, you can't." With a hint of gloat, Sandor put his arm around Sansa and pulled her close. It was all he could do not to tell Audrina to fuck off right there in the parking lot in front of everyone. "What are you even doing here?" Sandor snapped.

"I'm in town for a consultation with a client. I saw on Facebook that Grace had passed away and thought I should stop by." She cautiously tossed her hair over her shoulder and defiantly raised her chin. Her eyes narrowed at Sansa.

Sensing the tension in Sansa's body, Sandor glanced down at her and gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Sansa...this is Audrina." He told her flatly.

Always one to be polite, Sansa held her hand out with as much confidence as she could manage. She hoped Audrina didn't notice the way it was trembling. "Nice to meet you," she said quietly.

With a smirk, Audrina took her hand and gripped it tighter than necessary. "Can't say the same." She said, animosity dripping from her voice.

The words she spoke triggered a small gasp from Sansa. Brow furrowed, she ripped her hand from Audrina's grasp. Sandor had had enough. "Ok I think it's time for you to leave."

"Sandor, I _really_ need to speak with you-"

Cutting her off abruptly, Sandor put his hand up. _"Now_ is not the time, and it's definitely not the place. Actually, there will _never_ be a time _or_ place when I will _ever_ want to speak to you." On the verge of completely losing his cool, Sandor turned to Beric. "Maybe we'll just go." He pulled Beric in for a quick hug. "We'll see you in the morning."

Understanding Sandor's urgency to depart, Beric nodded. Sansa hugged Lola goodbye and hurried across the parking lot after Sandor. Behind her, she could hear Audrina saying something to Lola in an exasperated tone. The ride back to Sandor's apartment was a tense one. After several minutes, Sandor spoke up first.

"Thank you for not reacting to what Audrina said back there."

Still in shock from the near altercation, Sansa just nodded and kept her eyes on the road.

Sandor pulled in a deep breath and groaned as he let it out. "I don't know why she just keeps popping up..." Realizing what he had just said, Sandor let his voice trail away.

Alarmed, Sansa snapped her head towards him. "You've seen her elsewhere, recently?"

"Yea. I saw her at Halfhands one evening while we were split up."

A huge lump rose in Sansa's throat as she imagined the worst. _Did he hook up with her while we were apart?!_ Her facial expressions must have given her thoughts away, because Sandor quickly intervened.

"Not like that...Beric and I were just there having a drink after work. She showed up. Had no idea she was even in town."

Sansa gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white. "Is she in town a lot?" She really hadn't meant for her voice to sound so hostile.

"Fuck, I don't know. I don't ever talk to her." Sandor could sense Sansa's discomfort and he was trying his hardest not to let their conversation get out of hand. "I have no idea what she wants to talk about and I really don't give a shit."

Sansa pulled her car into the parking garage at Sandor's apartment. Sighing, she turned the ignition off and folded her hands in her lap. Sandor reached over and covered her hands with one of his. "Please don't be upset about this. I can't have you mad at me right now." Her silence worried him, so he continued. "I don't want to have anything to do with her. You are the only woman I want and will ever want for the rest of my life. You're the one for me. I love you and I promise you I'm going to marry you one day. I know I haven't been myself lately, and it's been hard on you. _Please_ don't be mad at me."

With tears in her eyes, Sansa gazed up at him. "Oh Sandor...I'm not mad at you. You did nothing wrong. I'm just mad that _she_ showed up and upset you." She cupped his cheek in her hand. "I know how much Grace's passing has affected you. And I'm sure seeing _her_ didn't make it any better."

Grateful for Sansa's sweet understanding, Sandor leaned across the center console for a kiss. "Let's go in and go to bed."

The next morning came far too quickly for Sandor. It was overcast and the gray sky was threatening rain. He and Sansa got dressed in silence. Sansa had chosen a modest, black sleeveless dress and black pumps for the funeral. Sandor's reflection joined hers in the mirror as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

"You look very handsome, Sandor." She commented quietly. Sansa was thankful that Henri had managed to find a funeral appropriate black suit in Sandor's size on such short notice. He had paired the suit with a black button up shirt. Sandor put his arms around Sansa's waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"You look very beautiful." He bent his head and put his lips to her skin and brushed them gently across its smoothness. "You always do." Sandor shuddered a sigh and turned Sansa around to face him. "Thank you for being here with me. For everything you have done for me. I don't know what I would do without you."

"You won't ever have to find out." Sansa whispered as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. For Sansa, there was nowhere else she would rather be. Sandor was hers and that meant his happiness and sorrows were hers as well.

Before leaving, Sandor made sure he had his sunglasses. It was cloudy, and wouldn't need them for the sun, but he knew there would be a good many people at the funeral and he wouldn't be able to handle them all seeing him cry. Beric and Dirk insisted that Sandor and Sansa sit with them in the front. Sansa nervously clutched the umbrella she had brought just in case, as she glanced around the crowd. She had wondered, but hadn't asked Sandor if he thought Audrina would show up to the funeral. For Sandor's sake, she hoped she wouldn't.

While the septon spoke on and on, Sandor sat solemnly with his hands folded in his lap. Sansa slipped her hand between his arm and body and squeezed gently as she laid her head against his bicep. As hard as he tried to prevent them, Sandor's tears flowed anyway. Sansa noticed and reached into her purse for a handkerchief that she discretely placed in Sandor's hand. Sandor was aware of the septon speaking, but his mind was elsewhere. The words that Grace had spoken to him just days before her death reverberated through his thoughts. Her urging him to let go of his hate and anger was something he would never forget ad long as he lived.

_'Please, Sandor...let your anger go. Just let it all go.'_

Sandor wasn't sure how he was going to be able to do it, or if he would even be able to. But he knew he had to try for Grace's sake. For Sansa's too. Reflecting on their breakup argument, Sandor remembered he had told Sansa that she didn't need a miserable man like him in her life. He still agreed with that point. But instead of making himself void in her life to keep her from his misery, he would resolve to keep his promise to Sansa to be a better man. Anger, hate, and misery would have to take a backseat to the love and devotion he had in his heart for Sansa. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head that was back against his shoulder.

"We must remember to not fear death, for we know it is not the end. Grace has closed her eyes in this world, but her eyes will open again in the afterlife. May the Father judge her fairly as the Stranger welcomes her into the unknown."


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I just couldn’t STAND to leave y’all with sad thoughts after that last chapter...so here’s the next one! Sansa, Lola and Margaery have some girl talk about an unpleasant topic. Sandor and Arya have a moment at the Feast in the Field. Hope y’all enjoy! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! Happy reading! xoxoxo

"You're _joking.._.she actually cried?!"

Lola nodded as he took a bite of her turkey panini. "I shit you not, Sansa..." she mumbled through her chewing, "she started crying right after you guys left! Bawled her eyes out. Damn, she was a mess!"

"Gods, how embarrassing." Margaery muttered with a raise of her eyebrows. "I'm glad you and Sandor left when you did, Sansa."

Sansa rolled her eyes and huffed as she pushed the remainder of the fettuccine she had ordered for lunch around on her plate. It was Friday afternoon. She, Margaery and Lola had met at Tate's for lunch. Once they had gotten their food and seated themselves on the outdoor patio, Lola had launched right into the story of what had happened after Sansa and Sandor had left the night of the wake.

"So what did she say, though?" Sansa inquired. Mentally, she he hoped for the best but prepared herself for the worst.

"Well she just kept saying how much she missed him and was still in love with him. She said that cheating on him and leaving him was the worst mistake of her life. Even said she was looking for jobs in King's Landing so she could move home." Upon hearing this, Sansa let her fork fall to her plate with a _clang_ and sat back in her chair, heaving a sigh. Lola paused and sought Sansa's eye contact. When she had it, she continued. "Audrina also told me that she wasn't going to stop trying to get through to Sandor. She said once she would be able to talk to him, she would be able to convince him to take her back. Not sure what that meant by that, but-"

Margaery intervened at this point. "But Sandor doesn't _want_ her back..."

"Oh I know! Trust me, there's no doubt in my mind that he doesn't want her back. And I told Audrina that. I told her that she fucked up and Sandor would never take her back." Lola stretched her arm out to place her hand on Sansa's. Sansa caught her gaze as she looked up. "And I don't _want_ him to get back with her. Audrina and I were friends for years. But we have grown apart and after seeing her again...to be quite honest...I don't really even want to be friends with her after that stunt she pulled at the wake. _Fuck_ that was so inappropriate! Showing up like that at your ex boyfriend's mother's _wake_ wanting to start some shit?! She's just as childish as ever."

This made Sansa feel a little better. Not much, though. Knowing that Audrina wanted Sandor back was a very unsettling thought. It made her feel threatened. Sansa hated having these notions in her head of Sandor leaving her for his ex, but she couldn't help it. With a bashful smirk, Sansa looked back up at Lola. "I saw on Sandor's laptop that he has been looking at engagement rings." Not wanting Lola to get the wrong impression, Sansa explained further, "I wasn't snooping, I opened it to work on a paper for school and there they were..."

At the mention of the rings, Margaery bounced up and down with excitement in her chair, looking back and forth between Sansa and Lola.

Lola's eyebrows shot up with astonishment. _"What?!_ Oh my Gods, girl...that's awesome! That _definitely_ means you have nothing to worry about when it comes to Audrina. I've known Sandor for a few years now, and I don't know him as well as you do, of course, but I've never known him to be dishonest. Beric says the same. By the way, Beric vouched for you in front of Audrina. He was so pissed off at her for showing up at such an inappropriate time that he didn't hold a thing back."

Wide eyed, Sansa and Margaery asked at the same time, "What did Beric say?!"

With a smug little grin, Lola crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned forward to set her elbows on the table in front of them. "He told Audrina that Sandor loves you like he has never loved anyone else. Audrina knew she had no more cards left to play when he told her that Sandor _wanted_ to marry you." Margaery gasped and clasped Sansa's hand and urged Lola to continue. "You see, it took _years_ for Sandor to be willing to even entertain the thought of proposing to Audrina. She always knew deep down Sandor never really wanted to get engaged or married. She just gave him an ultimatum, and Sandor fell for it. Now that she's heard that he actually wants to marry someone else... _sans ultimatum._..maybe she'll finally get the picture and move on. Gods, that _royally_ pissed her off."

After taking it all in, Sansa relaxed and hummed a little sigh of contentment. She still didn't like the idea of Audrina still trying to pursue Sandor. Sansa turned to Lola. "You don't think Audrina would do anything...stupid, do you? Like show up at Sandor's apartment?"

Lola sucked in a breath of air through clenched teeth. "I don't know...she's always had a screw loose." Seeing Sansa's discomfort, Lola went on. "I _really_ don't think you have anything to worry about, though. From Audrina or Sandor."

Sansa and Margaery spent the rest of the afternoon accompanying Lola as she met with the owner of a vacant building downtown. Having already been a restaurant in its earlier years, the building had great potential for the restaurant Lola wanted to one day open in King's Landing. It had beautiful antique hardwood floors, brick walls and a large open floor plan. They listened as Lola excitedly painted a picture of her vision for her 'farm to fork' restaurant concept. She envisioned a large chalkboard menu on the wall, butcher block tables stained dark with metal and wooden chairs, and dozens of edison bulbs hanging from the ceiling. What Lola was most concerned about was taking out a loan. The building itself was very affordable, but Lola would have to start from scratch. Furnishings, updating the kitchen area, and general maintenance on the building would require several thousand dollars. Before they parted ways for the evening, Sansa gave Lola her father's card so she would have someone in King's Landing to talk to about a loan.

The Feast in the Field was rapidly approaching. Sansa had extended an invitation to Beric and Lola, but Beric politely declined. Although she had been hoping to spend some more time with Lola, Sansa understood his reasoning. She knew he was still in emotional turmoil over his mother passing away. The topic of Sandor attending the dinner was something Sansa had not brought up with him quite yet. He and Beric had gone back to work and were trying to carry on their lives with as much normality as possible. Late at night though, Sansa had awoken a few times to the sound of Sandor sniffling and could feel his hands wiping across his face. By the irregular rise and fall of his chest, Sansa could tell he was pulling in shaky breaths through his tears. She would reach for him, and comfort him as much as she could. Sometimes this led to the slow, passionate lovemaking that Sandor craved during those midnight hours. Other times, he just clung to her desperately and wept until his exhausted body succumbed to sleep. One particularly stormy night, Sandor had reached for Sansa and made love to her like it was his last hour in the world. He had climaxed into her with such force and desperation that it almost hurt on Sansa's end. But she held onto his body tightly until he stilled on top of her as the aftershock of his orgasm waned. On the nights when Sandor still couldn't sleep after making love, Sansa stayed up with him as they poured their hearts out to each other. Pressing his forehead to hers, Sandor would cradle Sansa in his arms as he listened to her hopes and dreams that she had for them. The way Sansa's soft voice drifted up to him put Sandor's mind at ease. Although he was still devastated about Grace's death, bearing his soul to the woman he loved in a way he had never done before brought him an encouraging amount of peace. It would take time for his heart to heal from her passing, but with Sansa by his side, Sandor knew he would get through it.

The morning after the storm, Sandor rose for work as usual. Not bothering with any clothes, Sansa lazily stretched her way into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. She poured a travel mug full for Sandor when he emerged into the kitchen. Sandor drank in the sight of Sansa's naked body as she leaned against the counter. The sound of his name interrupted his thoughts of skipping work for the morning and taking Sansa back to bed.

"Sandor..."

With his coffee mug raised halfway to his lips, Sandor mumbled a _hmm._

"The Feast in the Field charity dinner is this Saturday." Sansa slowly made her way to where Sandor was standing and put her arms around his waist and gazed up at him. "Do you think you will be up for going with me?"

With a heavy sigh, Sandor set his mug down on the kitchen table and wrapped his arms around Sansa's body. Knowing the event was just around the corner, he had entertained the thought of asking Sansa if it would be ok if he skipped out on this one. But he had promised her that he would go with her to any and all of the dinners and balls that she was obligated to attend. And with Ramsay at large, he was not about to risk letting her go to a large event like that without him there to watch over her. "Of course you would ask me this while you're _naked."_ Sandor smoothed his hands down her back, savoring the silky texture of her skin. "I think you already know the answer."

Sansa pressed a smile into the fabric of his work shirt. "So you'll go?"

"Yea babe, I'll go with you."

Tightening her embrace around him, Sansa exhaled a relieved sigh. She had been prepared for him to tell her _no,_ and would have understood his desire to stay home. But she was grateful that he had agreed. "Thank you, Sandor. It means a lot to me that you'll go."

Sandor pulled her away and leaned down to press a kiss to Sansa's lips. "Well, I can't stay home and wallow in misery forever."

It had been three weeks since Grace's funeral. Sandor had rejected any attempts from Sansa to get him out of the apartment. She had offered the idea to meet Margaery and Tormund for dinner somewhere, and had even suggested a weekend getaway to a secluded cabin in the Kingswood National Forest. But Sandor had been satisfied to just come home after his days at work and watch her prepare their dinner. He helped her from time to time, but mostly he just sat at her kitchen table and sipped from a glass full of whiskey. Though she had grown bored with staying in each night, Sansa had been patient with him, and didn't press her desire for a night on the town with their friends. Her days were spent working on schoolwork with Margaery. They made daily trips to the gym and helped Catelyn finalize details for the Feast in the Field.

This particular event was far less formal than the gala, so Sansa and Margaery did their own hair and makeup in Sansa's apartment while Tormund and Sandor parked themselves on Sansa's balcony to smoke and drink. Sandor was relieved to find out that he wouldn't have to wear his tuxedo and bowtie. Sansa had assured him that his funeral suit and a dress shirt would suffice. Sansa had chosen a strapless red knee length dress that flared out playfully. Margaery dressed herself in a floral one shoulder dress that hugged her curves. Both girls had opted for wedges instead of heels that would surely sink into the grass around the tent. A limo took the two couples to the venue. Everything had come together wonderfully. A massive white tent sat on a hill that overlooked the horse farm. Miles of white fencing that contained expensive looking horses surrounded the property. Inside the tent were dozens and dozens of tables adorned with rustic, shabby-chic decor. Burlap and lace lined the tables underneath simple but beautiful arrangements of pink and white peonies in mason jars. Elegant chandeliers hung at regular intervals along the roof of the tent. Having no sides and only a top, the cool night breeze could be felt throughout the area. A dance floor was set up next to a band that was playing lively music.

"Well, you and your mother have outdone yourselves once again, Sansa!" Margaery exclaimed as they stepped into the tent.

As Sansa looked around and admired the results of weeks of planning, she smiled. "Thank you! Yes, everything turned out wonderful. But I _am_ glad this is the last event that we are responsible for planning ourselves this year."

Tormund and Sandor immediately went off in search of the bar and left Sansa and Margaery at their table to chat. "Now Sansa...you and Catelyn will have to help grandmother and I plan for the masquerade, of course!"

 _"Of course."_ Sansa giggled. The fall masquerade in October was _the_ event to attend in King's Landing. Anyone who was anyone came from all over to see and be seen. It was always such a fun party that Sansa looked forward to eagerly each year. It was only a few weeks after last year's masquerade that Ramsay had attacked Sansa. She shuddered at the thought, but quickly pushed those memories aside to think about making new memories at this year's masquerade ball with Sandor.

Already craving some distance from the crowd in the tent, Sandor took his beer to the fence a few yards away and pulled his cigarettes from his pocket. He eyed the horses in the field as they idly munched on grass in the fading twilight. He let his mind wander and allowed himself to think about the type of wedding that Sansa might want. _Would she want something formal and fancy like that gala, or something laid back and simple? Shit I've got to talk to Margaery about a ring for Sansa. I wonder if she'll be able to keep her mouth closed about it. Isn't there supposed to be a mother-son dance of some sort?_ The thought of Grace not being at the wedding saddened him. Sandor hadn't cried in a solid five days. He knew if he didn't get his shit together, that number would quickly be brought back to zero. A rustle of gravel next to him made him jump.

"Mind if I have a cigarette?" Arya asked as she leaned on the fence a few inches away from him.

Rolling his eyes and looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, Sandor fished his pack of cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket and handed them to her. "I didn't know you smoked."

After placing one in her mouth and lighting it, Arya handed the pack back to Sandor. "Only when I drink. And then, it's still not very much."

"You're going to get me in trouble, girl. If your parents see you smoking a cigarette _I_ gave you, we'll both be in a world of shit. Me more so than you."

Arya laughed and exhaled into the night. _"Relax_ Sandor...mom and dad are busy 'making the rounds' schmoozing and gossiping with all the _fancy people."_ She rolled her eyes and lifted her face to gaze at the stars that dotted the darkening sky.

"I take it this isn't really your scene?"

Arya shook her head and flicked the end of her cigarette. "No, they were always more of mom and Sansa's thing. Mom lives for this shit. I just go for the free drinks." With a playful smirk, she lifted her glass and clinked it against the neck of Sandor's beer.

Sandor laughed and shook his head. "Yea, they're not really my thing either."

"Then why are you here?"

 _Is this girl for real?_ Sandor laughed and turned to face Arya. "Why do you think?"

Sharing his laughter, Arya patted him on the shoulder. "I know why you're here. And it means a lot to her. Really does." She paused for a sip from her drink. "Dad told me he gave you permission to propose to Sansa..."

Dumbfounded that Sansa's little sister was now putting him through the ringer, Sandor swallowed from his beer. "Yea, he did. However, he might change his mind if he sees you smoking that cigarette," he warned again.

Defiantly, Arya raised it to her lips again and pulled a breath in. "Awful fast, don't you think? You guys haven't been together but a few months."

Choosing to use Ned's words, Sandor glared at her. "We're adults who can choose to take our relationship at our own pace."

Arya smirked and arched a dark eyebrow deliberately higher than the other. "Funny...dad said the exact same thing when I asked him that same question."

"Look Arya, I like you and everything. But if you came out here just to tell me-"

"I didn't come out here to give you a hard time." Arya bit her lip and looked away. "I came to say that I'm happy for you two. Sansa hasn't had it easy when it comes to love and I can tell she really loves you. And we all know how much you love her."

Heaving a sigh, Sandor glanced at Arya. "Well I appreciate it. And yes, I do love your sister. Very much."

A few minutes of awkward silence stretched between them. Arya finally spoke. "I was sorry to hear about your godmother. Very sorry. I've never lost anyone close to me before...not like that anyway."

Sandor sighed and slipped his cigarette butt into his empty beer bottle. He held it out for Arya to do the same. "Consider yourself lucky, then. It's not something I would wish on anyone."

Arya had turned back to face the tent. She hummed an agreement in response to his comment, but her forehead was wrinkled with concern. Her neck craned to look at an upsettingly familiar face at the edge of the crowd. A shorter man with dark hair and icy blue eyes had turned and was making his way back to the parking lot.

Sensing her alarm, Sandor turned as well as scanned the crowd for that one face that would send him running for Sansa. "What? What is it?"

Shaking her head, Arya frowned. "Nothing...thought I saw..." Her voice trailed off as she shook her head as if to shake some sense into herself. "No, couldn't have been him."

Sandor spent the rest of his evening with a close eye on Sansa. The catered barbecue was delicious and the beer was cold, so he was content. Thankfully, Sansa hadn't pushed him to dance. She had been satisfied just to let Robb and her father twirl her around the floor. He watched as Sansa rested her head on Ned's shoulder during a particularly sentimental song. He bit his lip as tears threatened to fall yet again as thoughts of him dancing with Grace at his own hypothetical wedding flooded his mind. _Damn I need another drink._ Knowing Sansa was safe in her father's arms, he rose and returned to the bar for another beer. Once he returned to the table, he discarded his jacket onto the back of his chair and loosened the top button on his dress shirt. With a heavy sigh, he lowered himself back into his chair to watch Sansa. After a few more songs, Ned begged for a break, so Sansa joined Sandor at the table. She put her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Having fun, little bird?"

Grinning ear to ear, Sansa sat next to Sandor and reached for the straps on her wedge heels. "Yes, but my feet are _killing me!"_ Exasperated, she tugged on the straps, but couldn't get them undone.

Sandor chuckled at her struggling. Reaching a hand down, he picked her feet up and set them in his lap. "Here, let me." His fingers were big compared to the thin straps held in place by tiny buckles, but with a few well placed tugs, Sandor let her shoes fall to the floor.

Sansa sank back into her chair and sighed. _"Much better._ Thank you." She smiled sweetly at him.

The melody of an old familiar song from the eighties began to drift through the air. Impressed that the band actually knew a _Whitesnake_ song, Sandor couldn't pass this one up. Gently, he placed Sansa's feet on the ground before rising from his chair. He held his hand out for Sansa.

 _Oh my Gods, he's actually asking me to dance!_ Without hesitation, Sansa put her hand in his and let Sandor lead her to the dance floor. Sandor wrapped his arms around her and held her close as they moved and turned slowly. Thinking about the meaning of the lyrics, he smiled and pressed his lips to the top of Sansa's head. He dipped his head lower to softly sing the lyrics in her ear.

_"Is this love or am I dreaming, this must be love, 'cause it's really got a hold on me...a hold on me..."_

Hearing Sandor sing, Sansa lifted her eyes to his and smiled. "You sing _beautifully,_ Sandor."

The breathy laugh that shot from Sandor's mouth stirred the hair around Sansa's ear. "Tell me another lie, little bird."

Grinning, Sansa locked her gaze with his. "You want another lie?" Sandor smirked and nodded. Sansa replied, "I am not in love with you..."

"Hmm...that _is_ a lie."

"Yes. Yes it is."

Sandor gripped her a bit tighter and growled into her ear. "Lying is a very naughty thing to do, my dear..."

 _"Hmmmm."_ Sansa closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to Sandor's chest. "What are you going to do about it?"

Sandor's own dirty thoughts sent the blood rushing to his already half hard dick. Suggestively, he pressed Sansa's body closer to show her his arousal. Gasping at the sensation, Sansa bit her lip.

"Wanna get out of here?" Sandor asked lowly. "I'll take you home and show you..."

Back in Sansa's apartment, Sandor made love to Sansa on the living room floor. In the weeks since Grace's death, he had of course made love to Sansa, but he felt like he hadn't really been there in the moment. The effort on his part had been lacking severely and he knew he owed it to Sansa to love her long and properly. Sandor worshipped her soft body for hours, paying close attention to the way her body seemed to float above the blankets on the floor as his tongue swept across her clit. After building her at an agonizingly slow pace, he brought her to three intoxicating orgasms that left her very sated and spent. In an exhausted tangle of limbs, they were soon asleep on the floor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On an unrelated note...my Instagram handle is @cowgirlbarbie_ if anyone wants to know the real me! 😂 (I’m not that interesting). Shoot me a PM and let me know who you are and I’ll follow you back! ♥️


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm telling y'all...It's a great day to be alive! #LovingLife 
> 
> Sandor makes some BIG decisions in this chapter. Ones I think you will liiiiiike.... As always, please leave a comment to let me know what you think! 
> 
> If you would be interested in reading another story I am working on right now, be sure to check out the end notes! Happy reading! xoxoxo

The next few weeks were some of the happiest times for Sansa and Sandor. The happiest Sandor could remember in his whole life so far. Having made peace with Grace's death, he had chosen to look back fondly on the happy memories he had of her, rather than dwell on the unpleasant ones. To Sansa's delight, Lola had called her with news that her loan had been approved and she had purchased the building that would soon be her restaurant. At first, Sandor was worried about the affect Lola's moving to King's Landing would have on Beric, being a chronic bachelor and all, and not ever wanting to take things past the 'friends with benefits' situation they had going on. However, after his mother's death, Beric had a new outlook on his relationship and had confessed his true feelings for Lola. In a shocking development, he had even gone as far as to invite Lola to come live with him once she made the move to King's Landing for good. No news had been heard of about Audrina or Ramsay, and for once, Sansa found herself completely at ease with her life. Miraculously, Sandor even found that he was beginning to look forward to all the black tie events that he attended with Sansa during the rest of the summer. Seeing Sansa in her element was something he loved. Sandor also loved seeing the way Sansa's face beamed with pride whenever she introduced him to someone new. Having grown accustomed to his imposing size and appearance, the upper crust of society in King's Landing was readily accepting him. At the Black and White Gala, Catelyn graciously accepted Sandor's invitation to dance with him. Having immensely improved his dancing skills, Sandor was able to confidently navigate Sansa's mother gracefully around the dance floor. She had been delighted, but not as delighted as Sansa had been.

It wasn't until the Midsummer Night's Ball at the end of July that Sandor was finally able to talk to Margaery about getting her to help him pick out a ring for Sansa. When Margaery stepped onto the terrace for a breath of fresh air, Sandor gestured to her from where he was standing in the corner. Curiosity flooded Margaery's face as she stepped into the shadows at Sandor's summons.

"I need your help with something. I-"

"You're going to propose to Sansa, aren't you?!"

With a roll of his eyes, Sandor let a groan slip out. _"Shhhh..._ do you want everyone to hear you?" Turning his head to make sure that there was no one within ear shot, he eyed the crowd until he spotted Sansa inside conversing with her sister. He turned back to Margaery who was awaiting his answer with much wide eyed anticipation. _"Yes._..I'm going to proposed to Sansa-"

An excited squeal that shot from Margaery's mouth cut him off. "Oh my Gods, _I knew it!_ Oh gosh, this is just so exciting, I am _beyond_ _thrilled_ for you!" By now she was jumping up and down in her giant tulle ballgown, making her brown ringlets on top of her head sway wildly. "When? _When?!_ Have you picked out a ring, yet?!"

Sandor's arm was being lightly jerked up and down from where it was grasped in Margaery's hand as she bounced up and down on her heels. Exasperated, he pulled his arm free from her grip. "No, that's what I need your help with."

"Well, whenever it happens, make sure you let me know first, so I can make sure she has her nails done."

"What the hell does that matter?"

Impatiently, Margaery tapped her foot on the ground. _Men. "Because.._.whenever a woman gets engaged, she is going to want to take pictures of the ring on her hand. And Sansa will want her nails to look pretty."

 _Well I guess that makes sense. There's way more to proposing than I originally thought_..."But won't she suspect something's up if you suddenly insist on her getting her nails done for no reason?"

"No, Sansa and I go get our nails done together _all the time_. She won't suspect a thing."

To ease his nerves, Sandor fished a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it as he listened to Margaery pepper him with questions.

"So do you know how and when you want to do it? Or where? What about proposing to her in front of all of her family members?! Some girls might like that. Have you thought about getting someone to take pictures when it happens?!"

The thought of proposing in front of Sansa's entire family suddenly had Sandor's vision getting a little cloudy. "Ok, the question and answer portion of this discussion is over. We'll just have to figure all of that stuff out as we go along." He paused to give Margaery a hopeful look. "So...you'll help me out with all of this?"

Beaming, Margaery grabbed his hand. _"Yes!_ Of course I will, Sandor! Oh gosh I'm so excited for you! And I promise you, my lips are _sealed."_

Fearing that Sansa might be suspicious if he and her best friend were suddenly unavailable at the same time one evening, Sandor made plans to take a few hours off of work the following Monday to meet Margaery at Valyrian Jewelers.

When Monday arrived, Sandor was a nervous wreck. _Shit, if I'm this nervous about picking a ring out, how am I even going to be able to ask the damn question?_ With a cigarette clasped between his lips, Sandor dug around in his wallet for a business card he had been guarding with his life. Sunday evening after the ball, he had snuck into Sansa's bathroom. At Margaery's urging, he had traced the inner circumference of a ring that had belonged to Catelyn that Sansa sometimes wore on her ring finger. He stared down at the circle he had drawn on the back of the business card. _I sure hope this is accurate enough._ Finally, Margaery pulled up. He threw his cigarette down and scuffed it out with his work boot.

Margaery slammed her car door and bounded up to him. "Well, I told Sansa I was taking afternoon tea with my grandmother. An outing she was all too willing to miss out on." She gave him a wink. "Are you ready?!"

"Ready as I'll ever be..."

As Sandor swung the door open for Margaery and himself, he got his first look at the inside of Valyrian Jewelers. Large display cases containing glittering jewels filled the room. As Margaery greeted the owner that was to assist them, Sandor got a better look at some of the rings. One of which he would soon be taking home.

Two hours later, and after spending far more money than he had ever hoped to spend on something that was so small, Sandor left the shop with a size six, not quite two carrot, cushion cut, halo setting engagement ring. Although he had the pictures of the rings that Sansa liked, Margaery insisted on having Sandor examine all the rings that were similar to the ones Sansa had saved on her phone. He never imagined picking out a ring would be such an involved process and he was glad Margaery had been there to steer him in the right direction. After thanking Margaery profusely, and swearing her to absolutely secrecy, Sandor mounted his bike and sped back to work.

To Sandor's dismay, Tormund and Thoros were waiting with Beric when Sandor pulled up to the garage.

"Well, let's see it!" Tormund boomed so loud his voice echoed off the high ceilings of the shop.

Sandor heaved a mighty groan and rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what his friends were doing there, but he asked anyway. "What the fuck are you guys doing here?"

Thoros clapped him enthusiastically on the shoulders. "We're here to see the ring, of course!"

After letting a small smile creep to his face, Sandor dug the small black velvet box out of his pocket and carefully opened it for his friends to see. The fluorescent lights overhead made the diamond sparkle and shimmer as if it were alive.

Beric let out a low whistle and extended a hand out towards the ring.

Immediately, Sandor pulled the box out of his reach. _"Don't_ you fucking touch that. Your hands are filthy." He growled as he snapped the box shut.

Beric laughed heartily at Sandor's protectiveness over the ring. "That's a beautiful ring, Clegane. How much did that set you back?"

"That's my fucking business."

After Sandor slid the box back into his pocket, Sandor stooped down to retrieve a large wrench from the bottom drawer of his tool chest. As he rose, he could feel his friend's eyes watching him closely. He turned to see the three of them staring at him with very unusual grins on their faces. "What are those shit-eating grins for?"

"Oh Clegane..." Thoros began, "we're just so happy for you! _And_ we never thought that out of all of us, you would be the first one to get married!"

It was a good feeling. Sandor felt some satisfaction in knowing that he had at least beaten the rest of his friends to the punch when it came to this. Being lucky in love was something that he was relishing, and he would be damned if he would let anything or anyone stop him now.

When it came to deciding when, where, and how his proposal would happen, Sandor was clueless. He had the ring at least, and he hoped everything else would just fall into place soon after. At the Westeros Heritage Ball which was held at the Red Keep Museum in August, Sandor was able to toss some ideas around with Margaery. She told him not to propose on a holiday because it was too _cliché..._ even though Sandor didn't really see the problem with that. After rejecting a few of each other's ideas, Sandor finally decided to propose at Luwin's. It was where they had their first official date, so the restaurant held some sentimental value to them as a couple. Delighted with Sandor's decision, Margaery clapped her hands together with enthusiastic approval. She then proceeded to beg Sandor to let her hide somewhere in the restaurant so that she could take pictures when it happened. Sandor reluctantly agreed after Margaery assured him Sansa would appreciate the sweet pictures. As for when it would happen, Sandor decided to wait a few weeks after the fall masquerade ball at the end of October.

A few weeks after the Westeros Heritage Ball, school started back for Sansa and Margaery. As they had done at the end of the previous school year, Sandor and Tormund had made a trip up to the school to help the girls get their rooms put back together. Sansa was one of the only teachers she knew of who actually looked forward to school starting back. Of course, she loved her summers off. But what she loved more was getting to meet all the bright, smiling faces that she would get the privilege of teaching that year.

Around the middle of August, everyone was finally able to get together one Saturday night and meet for dinner and drinks at The Tipsy Goat. Lola had been in King's Landing for a few weeks and was already well underway with the renovation and development of her restaurant. To make sure she would truly have a "farm to fork" style restaurant, she had been meeting with farmers outside of King's Landing so that she could buy her meat and produce locally. The group had been all too willing to be the taste testers to decide which items Lola should solidify on her menu. Beric was the first to raise a toast to the new restaurant.

"Here's to...what are you going to call your restaurant again, sweetheart?"

Lola blushed and hid her giggle behind a hand. _"Four Corners Kitchen,_ darling."

Beric held his mug of beer up. "Here's to Four Corners Kitchen!" The others held their drinks up to the middle of the table as well. Beric continued. "May everything you create be as _delicious_ as you are, my dear!"

Sandor hid a groan as he gulped from his beer. Seeing Beric in love was almost too much for him to handle. It was amusing, to say the least, but strange seeing his closest friend who _swore_ he would never tie himself down to one girl, becoming completely and happily monogamous. But Beric had been nothing but supportive of his whirlwind romance with Sansa, so Sandor vowed that he would do the same for Beric and Lola. "Well, Lola...you just make sure to keep those barbecue egg rolls on the menu forever. I could probably keep you in business single handedly by ordering those things."

Lola smiled at Sandor, thrilled that he was still raving about her special barbecue egg rolls. She tipped her glass to him. "Thanks! I will definitely keep that in mind!"

Later in the evening, Sansa and Sandor found themselves alone at the bar as they waited for the bartender to look their way. Lost in her thoughts, Sansa laid her head on Sandor's bicep and lazily traced circles on his chest with her fingers. "This is where we first met."

"And what an eventful night that was. Do you remember?" Sandor looked down at Sansa with a smirk. "Oh wait..." He laughed at his insinuation that Sansa had blacked out that night.

"Ha...ha." Sansa replied dryly. Delivering Sandor a swift poke in the ribs, she scoffed. "Well it's not my fault you and your friends kept buying me shot after shot."

Sandor whistled to the bartender, then looked down at Sansa. "Well it's not _my fault_ you're such a lightweight." He turned to address the bartender. "Two Blue Moons, please."

Sandor wrapped his arms around Sansa's waist and laid kisses on her full, supple lips. _I can't really even remember the exact day we met. Was it April 5th? Damn, I can't remember, all I know is it was a Friday night in April. Maybe Sansa will remember._ A different thought clicked in his mind. "Hey what day is it, babe?"

Sansa drew a finger across the condensation on her beer glass. "Umm...I think it's the 17th. Why?"

Sandor lifted his beer to his mouth and took a hearty gulp. "I need to pay my homeowner's insurance. It's due on the 20th."

Sansa pursed her lips together. _It's a shame he has to sink money into a place he hardly stays at. Maybe we could start staying at his place more. Unless..._ Without stopping to consider what she was about to say, she opened her mouth to speak. "Well you could always...I mean..." She paused and tugged the hem of her shirt and glanced around. "You could..."

"What is it, babe?" _Damn she's so cute when she's nervous._

Sansa took a deep breath. "If you wanted to...you could... um...doyouwanttomoveinwithme?" She finished in one rushed breath.

"Sansa-"

"I mean, only if you wanted to. You're paying for a place you hardly stay at, we always stay at mine. It's kind of a waste."

_"Sansa..."_

_Oh shit, oh shit...he doesn't want to. Shoot, this was a horrible idea, this is going to be a disaster._ "Or I mean...if you don't want to, it's fine. What we're doing now is working out great-"

To silence her, Sandor lifted a finger and pressed it to her lips. "Sansa..." With apprehension in her eyes, Sansa gazed up at him. "Are you going to let me actually answer your question?" With her bottom lip clutched in her top teeth, Sansa slowly nodded her head.

"I think..." Sandor began with a steadying breath. "I think that moving in together would be a great idea, little bird."

 _"Really?!"_ Sansa's eyes widened at his answer. _Did he just agree to move in with me?!_ "So...so you want to...move in with me?"

Sandor tossed his head back and let a laugh roll from his chest. "Well yea! I mean, why not? Like you said, we always stay at your place. And besides, my place is where I lived with my ex. Not like it really holds any sentimental value to me or anything like that." With a finger under her chin, he continued. "And then maybe, if things go according to plan, one day later on we could get a bigger place. You know... _just in case."_ Sandor's wink as he emphasized his last words hit Sansa with realization.

 _Did he just imply he wants to have a family?!_ Having children was something they hadn't really discussed in depth as of yet. Sandor had mentioned that he did eventually want kids, but they had left it at that. Hearing his cryptic comment about needing 'more space' renewed Sansa's excitement. After taking a minute to let his words sink in, Sansa lifted her hands to place on Sandor's chest. "So this is happening. We're going to be living together."

"Looks like it. Are you excited?"

With unbridled enthusiasm, Sansa threw her arms around Sandor's neck. _"Yes!_ Gods yes, I'm so excited!" She bounced up and down on her toes as she kissed him repeatedly on the cheek. "Wait, you said _'if things go according to plan'_ a minute ago. What kind of plans do you have in mind?"

A long kiss from Sandor silenced her for the time being. He pulled back and gently caught her face with his big hand. "You'll see, little bird. You'll see."

Excited was an understatement, and it was definitely not the only feeling Sansa was experiencing at that moment in time. This was a big step for them as a couple and as excited as she was, a touch of nervousness suddenly surged through her body. The last man Sansa had lived with ended up putting her in the hospital and the last woman Sandor had lived with ended up cheating on him and left him. So to say the least, their experiences with living with their significant others was shit. But this time was different. Vastly different. She was no fool, and knew it would not be all peaceful bliss every day. Sansa knew there would be compromises, but that was something she was willing to do if it meant living with the love of her life.

The biggest compromise, Sansa found, was having to share her closet space. Even though her closet was huge, and Sandor didn't have a ton of clothes, it was still difficult to manage fitting everything. Sansa solved that problem by purchasing an armoire to put in the bedroom. While Sandor's apartment was on the market, he decided he would keep it furnished. After it sold, he planned on putting his furniture in a storage unit until he and Sansa found a bigger place that could accommodate everything. Thoros called dibs on his couch, since Sansa already had a much nicer one and he wouldn't need his anymore. Sharing bathroom counter space was also another issue they had to face. Of course Sandor didn't have as many grooming items to have _'all over the damn place'_ as Sandor had frequently stated, but Sansa found she had to put up with an abundance of stray hairs whenever Sandor trimmed his beard. As any normal couple would, they bickered, and had arguments, but Sansa and Sandor loved living together. Waking up in each other's arms never got old, and Sansa always greeted Sandor when he got home with enthusiasm and affection.

The biggest issue Sandor was facing while living with Sansa was keeping her ring well hidden. Since his realtor had a key to his apartment, and was showing it to potential buyers regularly, he didn't feel comfortable leaving the ring at his place. His original hiding spot under the bed backfired horribly when he caught Pierre with the black velvet box in his mouth. After what Sandor was sure had been a mini heart attack, he frantically lunged for his dog, prying the box out of his mouth. He had collapsed onto the floor with relief once he cracked the lid open to see the ring still untouched inside. For one week after that incident, he had resorted to carrying the box around with him every day in his pocket. One evening when he saw Sansa carrying the laundry hamper towards the washing machine, he leapt up from the couch and snatched the basket from her. In what Sansa thought had been an act of pure loving chivalry, Sandor hastily offered to do the laundry. He insisted that Sansa go and take a hot bath, since she spent all day on her feet. While Sansa was soaking herself in her tub, Sandor dug around in the basket for the pants he had worn that day. With the box in his hand, he paced the kitchen nervously. He finally climbed on top of the kitchen counter and put the box on top of the cabinets against the wall. To Sandor's delight, his gallant offer to do the laundry that evening was rewarded with two sessions of passionate love making. Once in the tub, and once again in the bed.

Their coupling in the tub had been sweet and slow. When Sansa reached for him again once they were settled in bed, the frantic way she clung to Sandor as they kissed let him know she wanted it hard and fast. An act he was all too eager to comply with. He growled with pure need as Sansa's hands roamed the expanse of his broad back. Sandor's hands slid down her shoulders to her waist, one arm wrapping around her the other hand cupping her bottom, pulling her to meet him, all the while grinding his hips against her. A renewed wetness appeared between her thighs as she wantonly slid her opening against the length of Sandor's engorged cock. Sansa pressed her head back against the pillows and moaned loudly as he positioned the head of his throbbing manhood at her entrance. With agonizingly slow strokes, he slid it along the soft pink folds, coating the head of his cock with her arousal. Looking up, he caught Sansa's gaze.

"Do you want this?" Sandor asked as he wickedly continued to tease himself and Sansa both with her velvety softness.

Shallow breaths shot irregularly from her lips as Sansa dug her fingers into Sandor's hips, trying to get him to enter her to relieve the ache between her legs. _"Yes._..oh Gods, please, Sandor..."

Sandor lowered his lips to growl into her ear. "Please what? I want to hear you say it..."

Looking him in the eyes, Sansa answered his desire. _"Please,_ Sandor...please I need to feel you inside of me. Make love to me."

Needing no more encouragement, Sandor let his manhood go and sheathed himself quickly and smoothly inside of her. The delicious warmth he felt and the way her walls stretched to fit his girth was something he would always crave. Sansa gasped as he bottomed out inside of her, filling her completely. As Sandor gained speed with his thrusts, Sansa moved her hips, meeting him each time. Their pleasure continued to build, until it exploded, and surged through their bodies. Sansa cried out his name and dug her nails into his back. Soon after her initial burst, she felt Sandor's body shudder as he released into her and he cried out as well. As the waves of pleasure subsided, Sansa lay boneless on the bed. Sandor collapsed on top of her, his breathy pants matching hers. He rolled off to the side and held her in his arms, kissing her softly until she was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok...so I know I said I had a story in the works that involves Sandor and Sansa on the rodeo road. That story IS still going to happen, but it hasn't gotten past the "drifting aimlessly around my mind" phase. I don't quite have a good direction/plot for that story yet, and since I don't want to begin a story not knowing where it's going... it is being put on hold. It WILL happen...later. I AM, however, working on another story that is just full of 100% precious, tooth-rotting sweetness. After writing this story, I wanted to write something adorable and light-hearted. Sandor is a sweet, laid back country boy and Sansa is the new girl in town (I'll give you ONE guess why). I will begin posting chapters for my new story once this one is complete. But if you're interested...here's a teeny tiny sneak preview of what else I've been working on...Let me know what you think!
> 
> ****************
> 
> Feeling slightly silly, Sandor let her name escape his lips. Just once, to see what it sounded like coming from him.
> 
> "Sansa..."
> 
> He liked the sound of her name so much, he said it again.
> 
> "Sansa."
> 
> Moses tumbled ungracefully out of the back of the truck as soon as the tailgate was down and wagged his tail, looking up at Sandor. The giant Bloodhound cocked his head to one side and looked around, trying to figure out who Sandor was talking to. 
> 
> "Hello, Sansa." Chuckling at his foolishness, Sandor couldn't help himself, and continued. "Hey, Sansa. Good to see you again." With a ridiculous smile plastered across his face, he fumbled with his keyring to find his house key as he jogged up the porch steps. "So Sansa, would you like to have dinner with me sometime?" He asked the door before he slid the key into the doorknob.
> 
> "Who's Sansa?"
> 
> "Jesus, Ray!" Sandor stumbled backwards and nearly tripped over Moses. "You tryin' to give me a damn heart attack?!"


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! It’s an insane 5:30 here in Mississippi. I’ll give you one guess why I’m away so early. If you guess involves an animal that says MOO...you win!
> 
> Thanks for the feedback on my new story! I’m really looking forward to posting it! 
> 
> Ok y'all...I'm not gonna lie, and I really don't want to give anything away...but this chapter is CRAZY INTENSE! **MAJOR VIOLENCE WARNING** Be sure to leave a comment and let me know what you think! Without further ado...Chapter Twenty Two...

**November**

It had been a complete surprise when Sansa heard from Sandor one Friday morning that he wanted to take her on a date that night. She had had a busy, stressful day, and Sansa was looking forward to a lovely evening with Sandor. He could huff all he wanted about Sansa saying that he was _romantic_ , but Sandor had indeed been showing his romantic side lately by doing little things here and there that were out of the ordinary. Of course Sandor was sweet and considerate all the time, but recently, Sandor had been going out of his way to make Sansa feel extra special. One morning there was a note left on the bathroom mirror telling Sansa how much he loved her. Another afternoon, Sansa had received an enormous arrangement of gorgeous white roses while at school. Then the text that Sandor had sent that morning asking if he could take the most beautiful woman in the world on a date had sent Sansa over the moon. Always wanting to look immaculate for Sandor, she was very glad that she had gone with Margaery earlier that week to get a manicure.

When she got to her apartment that evening, Sansa quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside. She knew she had to be fast about getting ready because Sandor would be home any minute. They were going to Luwin's that night and she was overly excited. A curious smell wafted to her nose as she crossed the foyer to the kitchen, but she dismissed it absentmindedly. After tossing her purse on the island in the kitchen, she turned and crossed the foyer to the living room and flipped the light switch on. In an instant, her worst fear was laid out before her eyes.

"Hello, Sansa." His voice was the same. Laden with the usual smooth, monstrous melody she had been all too familiar with during their time together. The blood in Sansa's veins turned to ice and her body became paralyzed with fear when she saw Ramsay Bolton sitting on her couch.

Fear clutched her chest as she gasped for air. "What...what are you.. _.how_ did you get in here?"

Ramsay stood and slowly stepped across the room. Sansa countered his advance by backing up until her back hit the guest bathroom door. Her body flinched as it made contact. "I knew Margaery would have a key...my but she did put up a fight. Glad that bearded oaf she is with these days wasn't with her. It would have been a lot more...messy...than it was."

Panic set in as she imagined what he had done to get the key from her. _"What did you do to her?!"_ She screamed, fearing for her friend's life.

A sinister laugh escaped Ramsay's lips. "Oh don't worry. She'll live, of that I'm sure. But she won't be doing anything for _quite_ some time." Ramsay walked to the front door and slid the chain into it's nook, locking them completely in. Sansa's eyes darted to her purse on the kitchen island, where the gun Sandor had armed her with was tucked in its holster. If she could only somehow get to it, but her fear stricken body was unresponsive to her brain's urges. Sansa flinched and grimaced as Ramsay reached up to run a finger down her face. "Have you missed me? _I've missed you..."_ A terrified gasp tore from Sansa's mouth as he leaned in to let his lips graze across her skin.

"My...my b- boyfriend will be here...any minute now." Sansa stammered.

With sick, twisted delight, Ramsay clapped his hands together. "Good! Oh that's good...I'd hate for there not to be an audience..." Slowly, Ramsay pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans. He raised the gun and pointed it at Sansa.

For the hundredth time that day, Sandor touched the pocket of his jacket to make sure the tiny black velvet box was still there. He had reverted back to keeping the ring in his jacket pocket a few days ago after he heard Sansa make the comment that she needed to ask the maid to deep clean the kitchen. As he drove to their apartment after work, he reflected on their past months together. How far he had come, from being a scared, asinine brute, to preparing himself to kneel in front of the most beautiful woman in the world. The one who for some strange reason, wanted to belong to him. Sandor had heard from his realtor that very afternoon with the news that his apartment had sold. His plans were to share this news with Sansa as a way of easing into proposing to her. Before work that morning, he had dropped Pierre off at his apartment, since the maid had come by to clean Sansa's apartment. Pierre wasn't a fan of the maid, so they arranged for him to be elsewhere whenever she came. Sandor had been so distracted and nervous that afternoon, he had forgotten to swing by his old place and pick him up. Glancing at the time, he decided they would have to wait and collect him after dinner if they were going to make their reservation on time. Sandor parked his car in the deck next to the apartment and said a quick prayer before making his way upstairs. His shaking hand refused to work as he attempted to unlock the door. Finally, using both hands, he was able to insert the key and twist. The door opened, but only by inches. Furrowing his brow, Sandor stood back. Sansa knew he was coming home, and she _always_ left the chain unlocked for him. He positioned his face near the crack and called her name. "Sansa?" He paused to listen. Muffled noises could be heard from within, but he couldn't make sense of the sounds. A whine, maybe? An uneasy feeling clenched his chest. Something was wrong. Without another thought, Sandor stepped back and in one mighty, swift movement, his foot came crashing down on the wood, sending the door flying open. Inside, nothing seemed to be out of place. Sansa's purse was sitting on the counter. His pulse quickened as he scanned the apartment, eyes coming to rest on the closed bedroom door. Hesitantly, he crossed the living room, being careful not to make too much noise. His shaking hand gripped the doorknob and turned it slowly. When he first saw Sansa curled up on her bed in her satin nightgown, he thought maybe she had fallen asleep and had forgotten about their date. After a second look, the horrible realization hit him. Her wrists were pulled behind her back and wrapped with tape. Her ankles were also bound. The same silver tape had been used to seal her mouth closed. When she saw him, her panicked eyes widened and she started to scream through the tape. Blind with rage, Sandor was across the room in one giant step.

A man suddenly appeared from the bathroom. "Not...so...fast..." His outstretched arm held a gun. He wore a very unusual grin, his wild eyes glazed over with sickening insanity. "You must be Sandor."

Sandor's body trembled with rage. He cursed himself for leaving his gun in his car. "I know who you are," he growled. "Never actually thought you'd be stupid enough to come for her." Ominously, Sandor took a step towards him, not caring about the gun that he held. He narrowed his eyes. _"My mistake."_

Ramsay laughed. "Oh...a man always comes for what is his." Keeping the gun trained on Sandor, he walked to the bed and tore the tape from Sansa's lips.

_"Sandor, you have to leave!"_ Sansa immediately screamed. A hand came tearing across her face. Her body coiled back in fear as her tears fell. Sandor involuntarily advanced towards her. Ramsay pulled the hammer on the revolver back. When Sandor didn't stop, Ramsay pointed the gun at Sansa instead. Sandor stopped abruptly and raised his hands, his wrathful eyes watching Ramsay closely.

_"He's not going anywhere!_ Sandor will stay here and _watch_ as I reclaim what belongs to me!"

Choking sobs came from Sansa's throat. Her worst nightmare was coming true and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her voice shook as she desperately spoke to Sandor. "Sandor, go to Margaery, she-" Another blow to her mouth from Ramsay silenced her.

_"Shut up!"_

Ramsay swung the gun back towards Sandor and raised his eyebrows. Thinking on his toes was something Sandor was good at. But in this situation, he found that his mind was numb. All he could do was fixate on Sansa lying on the bed, bound and sobbing. Anger simmered in his core and his eyes went black with rage. He _had_ to end this. Even if it meant ending his own life, he had to prevent this from happening. He had to keep Sansa from reliving the nightmare that plagued her for so long. Ramsay had taken his eyes off of Sandor momentarily. He was looking at Sansa with a deranged, hungry gaze. Before Sandor knew what he was doing, he lunged at Ramsay, his hands not reaching for the gun, but his throat. From the corner of his eye, Ramsay saw him coming. The gun went off with a deafening crack.

Panicking, Sansa screamed his name. She struggled against her binds, desperate to get to Sandor.

Sandor felt the excruciating pain in his shoulder and felt the blood saturate his shirt, but he kept reaching. His hands struggled to gain purchase on Ramsay's body. The bastard was stronger than he looked. As they fought and strained against each other, the gun was knocked free of Ramsay's hands. It skidded across the floor and came to a rest underneath the dresser. Sandor lunged for it, hoping to end the situation once and for all. As Sandor pulled himself across the floor for the weapon, Ramsay stood over him and brought his foot down on Sandor's shoulder where the bullet had hit him. Sandor roared with pain, but mostly in anger as he reached up and threw Ramsay to the ground. Ramsay was quick, though, and was on his feet again before Sandor could react. As Sandor was pulling himself to his knees, he stopped short when he saw the knife in front of him.

_"Wow_ you're good aren't you?" Ramsay commented calmly as he traced the tip of the long blade in circles in Sandor's face. "Almost got me there."

Allowing his eyes to leave the knife, Sandor focused on Sansa for what very well could be the last time. _I'm sorry,_ he thought, _I'm so sorry, little bird._ She had managed to pull herself to her knees and was now kneeling on her bed. The bed where they had made so much love. Where they had shared all their secrets, hopes and dreams with each other during the dark hours of the night. Tears streamed down Sansa's face and her lips trembled as she mouthed the words, _"I love you..."_

As Ramsay continued to wield the knife in Sandor's face, he sighed. "Sansa, my darling, looks like we won't have that audience after all. Seems like your boyfriend here just won't take this lying down." Ramsay took a step closer. "No matter, I imagine the feeling of claiming your sweet cunt again will still be the same with or without this brute alive to watch." A depraved laugh crept from his mouth. _"Gods,_ I hope he hasn't ruined you...that would be a shame."

Darkness replaced the sadness on Sandor's face as his eyes left his love and found Ramsay again. In a motion that Ramsay obviously hadn't predicted, Sandor's hand flew to the blade. Disregarding the pain, he constricted his fist around it. Blood seeped between his fingers as he squeezed. Shocked at Sandor's dauntless action, Ramsay froze just long enough for Sandor to reach up with his other hand and grab his throat. _"You will never touch her again,"_ was all he hissed through his clenched teeth. Using all his strength, Sandor twisted the knife from Ramsay's hand and hurled him to the floor. With a menacing stare, Sandor looked down upon the man whom Sansa had been afraid of for so long. The man whose life he was about to end. Forgetting about the gun and the knife, Sandor pressed his knee into Ramsay's hip and brought his bleeding fist down on his still smiling, demented face. He was acutely aware of Sansa's screams in the background as he slammed his fist down onto Ramsay's face again and again, sending spurts of blood spraying over him and the room.

_"Sandor, stop! SANDOR! PLEASE!"_

Fist raised, prepared to make contact with Ramsay's face once more, Sandor turned and froze as he saw Sansa on the bed, straining against the tape. "Gods, Sandor please stop! _I cannot be without you!"_ The meaning of her words registered in his head as he dropped his blood soaked hand. If he killed this man that he wanted to so badly, he might wind up in jail. Killing him wasn't worth leaving Sansa alone. Ramsay coughed and sputtered, blood seeping from his mouth and nose. Slowly, Sandor rose to his feet and turned to the bed.

Hurried footsteps could be heard in the apartment coming towards the bedroom. _"KLPD, don't move!"_ A policeman shouted as he entered the room, weapon drawn and aimed. Sandor paid him no mind and ripped the tape free from Sansa's ankles and wrists. _"I said don't move!"_ The officer's gun went off. In a split second, Sandor shielded Sansa's body with his, waiting for the impact of the bullet. Instead, he heard a _thud_ behind him, as Ramsay's lifeless body hit the floor. In his hand was the knife. Once Sandor's back had turned, Ramsay had reached for it and had come for him from behind.

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder and hand, Sandor took Sansa in his arms. Her skin where the tape had been was marked red. Her lip was bleeding and beginning to swell from where Ramsay had struck her. _"Gods, look what he did to you,"_ he whispered before the uncontrollable sobs began to erupt from his chest. Sansa raised herself to her knees and trembled as she held Sandor, gasping for air between her own cries. Sandor cleared his throat and pressed his face into her hair. "It's over now. It's all over."

After Sansa and Sandor gave their statements to the police, Ramsay's body was taken away by the coroner. Margaery was ok. She had woken up on her kitchen floor, eyes black and wrist broken. She called the police and then Tormund, who had immediately taken her to the hospital. Sansa stood shivering outside, watching with a dazed look on her face as Sandor's shoulder and hand were treated in an ambulance waiting on the street.

"Hey, don't.. _.I need that jacket!"_ Sandor protested as he struggled against the paramedic for his leather jacket. Exasperated, the paramedic handed the jacket to Sansa. Not knowing about the precious item that was zipped inside the chest pocket, she took it and put it around her body.

When Ned and Catelyn arrived on the scene, the chief of police assured them Sandor would not be charged in any way. A hysterical Catelyn threw her arms around Sandor and thanked him repeatedly for saving her daughter. With tears in his eyes, Ned thanked him with a tight hug as well. Thankfully, the bullet had only grazed Sandor's shoulder and there was no major damage done. However, his hand would need stitches at the hospital. A paramedic helped Sansa into the ambulance. Once inside, she laid her head in Sandor's lap and sobbed, thankful for his actions.

When they arrived at the hospital, Catelyn insisted they page Robb to see to Sandor's hand. As a nurse cleaned and prepped his wound for stitches, Sansa, who now had her wits somewhat about her, explained the horrifying events of that night to he brother. Fighting back his tears, Robb clenched his jaw. He leaned in to hug Sandor. "I will always be grateful for what you did, Sandor. You saved my sister from what could have been a fatal ending."

Sandor nodded his head. The only words he could muster were, "I love her."

Robb smiled understandingly as he began to sew stitches through Sandor's palm. Once he was stitched up and bandaged, Sansa asked Robb to take them to Margaery. She was lying motionless in the hospital bed, Tormund clutching her hand as his other held his head. Dark blotches were pooled on the fabric of his pants, a clear indication that he had been crying. He jumped up and wiped his face when Sandor and Sansa entered the room. Margaery's wrist had been splinted. Her face was swollen and bruised and a bandage was adhered to her forehead.

"Margaery!" Sansa cried as she flew to her side. Carefully, she put her arms around her body and sobbed. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry this happened to you..."

Weakly, Margaery pulled her arms around Sansa's shoulders. "I feared the worst after I woke up. _I'm sorry._ He just pushed his way in..."

"Shhh...it's all over now." Sansa whispered. "There's nothing to be sorry for. It's finally over. _He_ will never come for us again." Tears welled in Margaery's eyes as she nodded, understanding what Sansa meant.

Tormund explained that the doctors wanted to keep Margaery overnight because of her concussion, just to be safe.

"You need anything?" Sandor asked.

Tormund shook his head. Before Sansa and Sandor left, they hugged Tormund tight, promising him they would check on them tomorrow.

Sansa and Sandor crawled into the backseat of Catelyn's Escalade. Finally able to relax a little, Sansa huddled against Sandor's side. She slid down in the seat and rested her head in his lap. Sandor stroked her hair gently. A hard bulge in the pocket of the jacket uncomfortably pressed into her chest as she relaxed herself into the leather seat. Sansa shifted slightly to alleviate whatever was pushing against her. Seeing as how their apartment was now an active crime scene, it was decided that Sansa and Sandor would go stay at her parent's house that night. Remembering that he still had some clothes at his apartment, Sandor addressed Sansa's father. "Ned, would it be too much trouble to go by my place so I can get a change of clothes? I guess I should shower real quick, too." Sansa smiled as she heard Sandor using her father's name.

It was Catelyn who responded first. "Dear, you probably shouldn't shower with your bandages and stitches. You can take a bath at our house. The tub in Sansa's old bathroom should be big enough." She turned and smiled at Sandor. When Ned pulled up in front of Sandor's apartment, Sansa stopped him before he closed the car door.

"What about Pierre? Mom can we bring him over?"

Smiling, Catelyn nodded. "Yes, of course."

Once Sandor had left, Ned turned to his daughter in the backseat. He stretched a hand out and grasped hers. "I'm so glad you're safe. And we're so thankful for Sandor. I might have had some minor reservations about him when I first met him...but after watching you two for the past months and what he did for you tonight..." Ned paused, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill. "...there's no doubt in my mind that he deserves you, my dear. He loves you, and you love him. That's all that matters." Sansa's lips trembled as she heard her father's words. She leaned forward over the center console and hugged him tightly.

A few minutes later, Sandor returned to the car with a change of clothes in one hand and a wiggling Pierre in his other. The little dog immediately jumped into Sansa's lap and whined as he licked her face.

Arya and Rickon were waiting in the foyer when they entered the Stark house. They threw their arms around Sansa and Sandor both, thanking Sandor for what he had done. Sansa had only seen Arya cry a handful of times in her life, and she embraced her little sister to comfort her.

"It's ok, Arya. Sandor took care of everything. There's no need to be afraid or sad for me anymore."

Arya wiped her face as she pulled away from her sister. "Gods, the only thing I'm sad about is the fact that I wasn't there to watch what Sandor did to him." She arched an eyebrow at Sandor. _"Or help."_ She added.

Sansa shook her head. "Well, I'm very glad you weren't there. Gods only know what he would have done if Sandor didn't arrive when he did."

Catelyn caught the tail end of their conversation as she emerged into the foyer after retrieving a set of pajamas from her bedroom for Sansa to change into. "It's all over, girls. No more talk of what might have happened." She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought to keep her tears from flowing all over again. "Sansa, why don't you go help Sandor get cleaned up. I'll get something together for you two to eat." Rickon took an immediate liking to Pierre and assured Sansa and Sandor he would keep him entertained while they got themselves cleaned up. However, Pierre had other plans and waddled after Catelyn into the kitchen to drool over the food that he could smell her preparing.

As Sansa filled the large tub in her bathroom, Sandor began the arduous task of removing his clothes. The numbing injections had worn off and his hand and shoulder were beginning to throb. Sansa turned and crossed the room to help Sandor out of his clothes.

"Here, let me." She said softly as she gently tugged his shirt from his body. Sandor winced in pain as he moved his shoulder to allow the shirt to be pulled away. As Sansa reached for the zipper on his jeans, Sandor leaned his forehead down to touch hers.

"I wish you were undressing me for different reasons, little bird..."

A tiny laugh escaped Sansa's mouth as she pulled his jeans and underwear down in one motion. As she rose, Sandor saw her lip quivering and the tears she was fighting back. Ignoring his throbbing shoulder, he put his arms around her and pulled her close. "Hey, it's alright now. Nothing else is going to happen."

In a small voice that was barely audible, Sansa whispered, "Thank you."

Those two tiny words clenched around Sandor's aching heart. He tried not to let himself think about how scared she must have been. "Gods, Sansa...I'm so sorry I didn't get there sooner. None of this would have happened." He reached his hands out and placed each one on her cheeks. The shakiness of his voice couldn't be helped. "I want you to know how much you mean to me. I've done a lot of things in my life that I'm ashamed of. _Lots_ of things. But...but the best thing I have done in my life so far...was falling in love with you." By now, silent tears were trickling down Sansa's face. Sandor reached his lips towards her to kiss them away. "You are my whole world, Sansa. You are my reason for living. And I almost lost you tonight." His voice broke with those last words. Completely overcome with his emotions, Sandor closed his arms around her body once more.

"It's not your fault, Sandor." He heard her whisper into his chest. "I'm just so thankful that you got there when you did. Before..." Sansa let her voice fade away, unable to finish her thoughts out loud. Shaking her head, she tugged his body away and cupped his cheek in her hand. "Let's get you cleaned up."

As she straddled Sandor's lap in the large jacuzzi tub, Sansa tenderly washed away the remaining dried blood from his chest. Even after he was clean, she still ran her hands through the thick hair she found there, reflecting on his bravery that night.

Groaning at her touch, Sandor sank deeper into the tub and gazed at her breasts that were now eye level. He reached his hand out to drag his thumb across her nipples. The feeling of Sansa's nakedness brushing across his half hard cock was sublime and Sandor found that he couldn't help himself. He pulled the washcloth from her hands and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue brushed across her lower lips and she opened them in response. As she arched her back to close the distance between them, Sansa's fingers wove into his hair and pulled him even closer to her. With a quick adjustment of her hips, Sansa sank herself onto Sandor's manhood, which was now rock hard from their steamy kiss. Water lapped over the edge of the tub as Sansa began to rock her hips over his. Sandor dipped his good hand down below the water between their bodies and found Sansa's swollen clit. Using the pad of this thumb, Sandor applied pressure and traced circles around it. A soft whine escaped Sansa's lips as she closed her eyes and allowed the sensations to rush through her body

Prompted by Sandor's touch, Sansa gasped and buried her face in the crook of his neck. There, she laid kissed and gentle nips on his warm skin. "I love you," she found herself saying as she continued to roll her hips quickly across his.

A gravely groan came from Sandor's throat as he pressed Sansa's hips harder to his with his unbandaged hand. "I love you too, Sansa," he replied before covering her mouth with another kiss.

The building sensation in Sansa's core was overwhelming and she felt like she was ready to explode. Her breaths came in short, gasping heaves against Sandor's lips. She closed her eyes as the divine convulsions began to pulse inside where Sandor's cock was rubbing and pushing. Hoping they weren't being too loud, he swallowed her quiet moans of ecstasy as he kept moving his tongue and lips around her mouth. Not caring about the amount of water that was being splashed onto the floor, Sandor thrust his hips at her, pumping his length in and out to finish himself off and make her pulsing orgasm last as long as possible. When Sandor felt the first few blinding waves of his peak, he pressed Sansa's hips down and rocked firmly against her as he erupted inside of her tightness. Sansa collapsed onto Sandor's chest and surveyed the mess they had made on the bathroom floor. She pushed herself up on his chest.

"We're going to need more towels..."

In the weeks that followed, Sansa returned to her normal routine. It was difficult at first, returning to her apartment after that night, but Sansa was able to adjust with Sandor's help. School was going well. Margaery had made a full recovery and she and Sansa were excelling in their grad school classes. The most wonderful thing though Sansa found, was not having to constantly worry about Ramsay appearing suddenly around the corner. Never again would she live in fear. She would never in her life wish ill upon any person, but she had a hard time not feeling glad that Ramsay was completely eliminated from the world. Sansa was completely relaxed and satisfied with her life and let herself fall even more in love with Sandor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH SNAP!


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Sorry this chapter is so short...but it will be worth it, I promise! I don't want to give anything away, but this may or may not be the chapter we have all been waiting for... ;) Please leave a comment to let me know what you think! Happy reading xoxoxo

**December**

Four weeks after in incident, _Midnight Envy_ was booked to play at The Green Dragon. With just a week and a half left until Christmas, Sansa and Margaery were on winter break and were done with classes for the semester. Listening to Sandor's band would be a great way to welcome the start of the break. Realizing that her family had not yet heard Sandor's band play, Sansa took it upon herself to invite them to the pub for the occasion. Everyone was able to come. Her parents and Rickon, Arya and Gendry, and Robb and Talisa all sat waiting for the band to start with Sansa, Margaery and Lola. Bran was home from Old Town on winter break and was able to join them as well. The only one missing was Jon. But he was stationed in the far north at that point in the year and didn't have any leave to come home. But Sansa was thankful that the majority of her family was there. They laughed as they shared good food and good drinks. Even Dirk showed up. He hadn't left the house very much since Grace's passing and Sansa welcomed him with a warm hug.

Backstage, Beric, Tormund and Thoros watched as Sandor paced nervously back and forth, mumbling inaudible words to himself and gesturing his hands for emphasis. Sandor had taken advantage of the fact that Sansa had invited her whole family to watch them play. Tonight was the night he would propose to Sansa. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, three days ago when Sansa had texted him to say they were all coming. Right then and there, he had decided that he would do it right before their last song of the night. But now that the night had actually arrived, Sandor was a nervous wreck. Barely being able to function during the day, Sansa had even insisted on taking his temperature to see if he was sick.

"You gonna be ok, man?" Thoros questioned as he watched Sandor dig in his back pocket for what he swore was the thousandth time. "That ring isn't going anywhere."

Sandor paused with his pacing to shoot Thoros a glare. He pushed a ragged breath from his chest. Sandor just nodded in response and lowered himself onto a spare speaker.

"You sure you're ok? You look a little pale. Like you're gonna pass out or something." Thoros inquired again. "Want me to slap you in the face?"

Huffing a shaky breath, Sandor shook his head and swallowed from a bottle of water. "Yea, man I'm good. I'm just...just a little nervous."

"Let's take a shot! Nothing takes the edge of like a little whiskey!" Tormund exclaimed as he held up a bottle they had been sipping from steadily.

"No, I'm good. If I drank any of that shit right now I'll probably puke on myself." Sandor waved the bottle away when it was passed it him.

Tormund wrinkled his brow. "Sandor Clegane turning down good whiskey. You really are nervous, aren't you?"

Sandor nodded his head once.

"Sansa is going to say yes, you old fool! You have nothing to worry about!" Thoros insisted as he slapped Sandor on the shoulder.

Beric interrupted them. "Ok you guys ready? It's time to hit the stage."

Sansa watched as the men took their various places on stage and clapped furiously with the rest of the crowd. She caught Sandor's eye and blew him a kiss. In an almost ridiculous display of affection, Sandor pretended to catch the kiss in his fist and then patted it onto his cheek, causing Sansa to squeal in delight. As they began to play, Sansa let her thoughts drift back to the night she first saw Sandor step onto the very same stage that he stood on now. The night after she had first met him. _How far we've come since then._ She had been mesmerized by him, as she still was now. _It's a good thing Margaery convinced me to come out that night._ Smiling at that thought, she turned to Margaery and took her hand.

"You know, I never thanked you, Marg." Sansa said to her loudly over the music.

"What for, love?"

"For making me come to hear them play that night after we first met them. You were the mastermind behind my second encounter with Sandor."

Smiling her widest smile, Margaery circled her arm around Sansa's shoulders and pulled her close. "I love you."

Sansa swayed in her seat to the rhythm of the music and leaned her head against Margaery's. "I love you too."

During their break, Sandor mingled with the Starks and lovingly showered Sansa with attention and kisses before climbing the stairs to play their last set of songs. As they prepared themselves for their last song, Tormund turned to Sandor, who gave a nod in response. Sansa thought nothing of it, and sipped casually from her drink. The men usually said a few things to each other between songs. But her brow furrowed when she saw Sandor unshoulder his guitar and set it in its stand. Her mouth hung open as Tormund stepped aside for Sandor to approach the microphone in the center of the stage. Sandor gulped a breath of air in before opening his mouth to speak. Margaery excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Sansa wondering what was happening.

"Um, ladies and gentlemen...before our last song, if you'll humor me with a few minutes of your time, I would greatly appreciate it."

Sansa turned to her Lola. "What's going on?!"

Innocently, Lola shrugged her shoulders. "Beats me."

Sansa whirled her head back to the stage and saw Sandor take another breath and rolled his massive shoulders as he stood behind the microphone. "Sansa my darling, would you please join me up here for a minute?"

Completely stunned, Sansa was frozen in place. Willing her legs to work, she slowly stood up and gave Sandor an inquisitive look.

"Come on, Sansa." Sandor's deep raspy voice beckoned her.

On jelly legs she was sure would fail her any second, Sansa walked slowly to the steps at the side of the stage. Thank the Gods Tormund had held his hand out to her to assist her in the short climb. As she picked her way across the stage, praying she didn't trip over a stray electrical cord, Sansa peered through the spotlights out at the audience. She quickly saw that Margaery had not gone to the bathroom at all, but was standing right in front of the stage, phone propped up in her raised hands. Her eyes flew back to Sandor, who was holding his hand out to her. "Oh my Gods..." Sansa whispered to herself as she placed her trembling hand in Sandor's. "What's going on?"

After giving her a quick peck on the cheek, Sandor clutched the microphone, curling his long, thick fingers around the stand. "Sansa..." he began in a shaky voice. "The moment I laid eyes on you...after you crashed into me and spilled your drink all over my shirt..."

Sandor's comment drew laughter from the crowd. He cracked a nervous smile as he waited for the noise to subside. "Ever since that moment, I have been completely head over heels in love with you."

Sansa's mind was racing. _Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!_

"We have been through a lot together. Anyone who knows us can attest to that. And you have stuck by me through it all. Heartbreak, despair, happiness...you have shared it all with me, and were right by my side. I truly don't know how I did it before I met you. You are my peace, and my joy, and I want to be the same for you. It would bring me nothing but happiness if you would do me the honor of staying by my side for the rest of our lives."

_Holy. Shit._

Sandor sucked in one more deep breath. He pulled the black velvet box out of his back pocket and slowly lowered himself on one knee. Sansa's hands flew to her mouth to cover a gasp. Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to spill. Another gasp shot from her mouth and her hands clutched her chest as he opened the box.

"Sansa Stark. Will you marry me?"

Sansa's hands covered her face and she peeked through her fingers at Sandor as the tears began to fall. In their time together, she had seen Sandor in lots of different positions. But she immediately decided this position...him kneeling in front of her, holding the most beautiful ring she had ever seen...was by far her very favorite. She pulled her hands away from her face and nodded as she threw her arms around him. "Yes...yes Sandor, yes of course I'll marry you!"

The breath Sandor had been holding in rushed out of his lungs as he squeezed her tightly. Sansa pulled back and proudly held her hand out. Carefully, Sandor pulled the ring from its box. Taking her outstretched hand in his, he slid the ring past her knuckles. It fit perfectly. Both shaking with laughter...and Sandor with relief that he had been able to get through it without passing out...Sandor rose and gathered Sansa in his arms and lifted her high off the floor to his lips. He could barely hear the clapping and cheering of the crowd and Tormund shouting into a microphone as he kissed Sansa repeatedly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in case you didn't hear...SHE SAID YES!"


	24. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok y'all...this is it! The last chapter/epilogue. I would like to say a great big THANK YOU to all my loyal readers who have taken this journey with me. I have enjoyed writing this story so much and it has really warmed my heart that so many of you invested your time and hearts into these words. Love you guys! And now (drumroll please) the conclusion!

**June**

The minute Sansa emerged from the bridal cottage where she had spent the day getting ready, Sandor's heart nearly stopped. All the things that he swore he would never care about before he met her were suddenly everything to him. As she clung to her father's arm and carefully made her way to the ceremony space, he pulled in a steadying breath of air and savored the moment. Streaks of yellow and orange were taking over the blue in the sky as the sun was dipping towards the horizon. The long, drooping limbs of the Live Oak trees around the area were adorned with strings of lights and flickering lanterns. To his right, Arya, Margaery and Lola stood attentively in their long yellow bridesmaids dresses, holding sprays of babies breath. Arya was watching him closely, gauging his reaction to seeing Sansa in her wedding dress for the first time. She was _not_ disappointed. On his left, dressed in their gray suits and yellow bowties were Beric, Tormund and Thoros. Sandor wiped his brow with the handkerchief that Dirk had supplied him. Nervousness was causing him to perspire, but also the heat. _Shit, it's hot! Of all months to get married, she would choose June. Just when it's starting to get good and hot._ Sandor knew he had himself partly to blame for that. Whenever Sansa had asked him for his input on the wedding plans, date included, he had just smiled his sweetest 'groom to be' smile and told her whatever she wanted was fine with him. As Sansa began her walk down the aisle, her features came into focus. Her hair had been loosely swept back into an arrangement of curls with a few wavy tendrils framing her face. The lacy dress she wore complimented her figure perfectly. It was snug from the sweetheart neckline to her hips where it flared out into a long train.

All Sansa could fixate on was how handsome Sandor looked in the gray suit she had decided on. To her surprise, he had pulled his hair back into a slick ponytail, showing all of his face to her. The look he gave her as she and her father came to a stop in front of Sandor and the septon took her breath away. Pure, unadulterated joy shone in his eyes as he blinked them repeatedly in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

"Who comes here before The Gods to be wed this evening?" The septon asked, beginning the ceremony.

Ned took a deep breath as Sansa gently squeezed his arm. "Sansa Stark comes here to be wed. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods that they will smile on her this evening. Who comes to claim her?"

Promoted by Ned's question, Sandor stepped forward. "I do. Sandor Clegane."

"Who gives her?"

"Her mother, Catelyn Stark and I, Eddard Stark."

"Sansa Stark." The septon spoke again, "will you take this man?"

Sandor found himself holding in a breath of air, anticipating Sansa's answer. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long. With a voice that shook with emotion, and a wide smile on her lips, Sansa replied, "I take this man." She turned to her father and smiled at him. After placing a lingering kiss on her cheek, Ned took Sansa's hand and placed it in Sandor's.

After handing her bouquet off to Arya, Sansa slowly slowly turned towards Sandor. No woman had ever looked as beautiful as Sansa had that day, Sandor quickly decided. He pulled in a ragged breath and opened his mouth to recite what he had spent so long memorizing.

"Sansa...you have made me feel more loved than I ever thought was possible. Today, I am giving you everything that I am, and all that I have. Just as I am giving you my hand to hold today, I am giving you my heart and my whole life. I promise to fight for you in your moments of weakness, and to celebrate with you in times of happiness. I love you more than I know how to say. But I can promise you, I will try my best to show you just how much I love you...every day for the rest of my life."

The beautiful words Sandor spoke pulled a tear from Sansa's eye, which she quickly wiped away with a handkerchief Arya held out for her. Sandor turned to Beric and took the slim wedding band from him.

"Sandor, repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed."

"With this ring, I thee wed." The band fit perfectly around Sansa's delicate finger as he slipped it on. Sansa beamed up at Sandor and squeezed his hand.

"Sandor, my love...I promise to grow with you and support you. I promise to be patient, understanding, and kind. I promise to listen and share. I promise to create, to explore, and be curious. In good times and in bad, I promise to love you. I promise to make sure there is always coffee. I promise to be my best for myself, for us, and for our future together. I love you, Sandor Clegane."

Sansa's comment about coffee drew laughter from Sandor and the crowd of people around them and caused him to relax a bit. That was one of the reasons he loved her so much. Sansa always had a way of relaxing him, no matter the situation. Sansa turned and took Sandor's large wedding band from Arya.

"Sansa, repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed."

Sansa placed the ring on the tip of Sandor's finger. "With this ring, I thee wed."

She couldn't help but notice how Sandor's hand trembled as he raised their clasped hands up to the septon.

"By the faith of The Old Gods and The New, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity." The septon wrapped the yellow ribbon around their outstretched hands. "Look upon one another, and say your words."

In unison they recited their vows. "I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days."

"I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days."

"With the power vested in me by The Old Gods and The New, I now pronounce you...man and wife! You may kiss the bride."

At that moment in time, all the details that Sandor had taken in before the ceremony started to fade away into a blur as he looked at nothing but Sansa. He heard nothing but his own heart drumming in his chest as he put his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers. Not the boisterous clapping of the bridal party or the cheering of the people in attendance registered in his mind. The most precious, glorious woman in the world was finally and legally _his._

It was a reception that put all the other galas and dinners and balls to shame. Sansa had never seen anything come together more beautifully. It was everything she had ever dreamed of. But the best part of her night was finally being able to call Sandor her husband.

One of the only things Sandor had insisted on doing himself in the wedding planning process was picking which song they would dance to for their first dance as a married couple. After some hesitation, Sansa finally agreed. However, she was disappointed when Sandor wouldn't reveal which song he had chosen. Ever the classic rock lover, Sandor had selected an _Eric Clapton_ classic "Wonderful Tonight." Each wonderful moment that passed during the reception was Sansa's new favorite.

Sandor mingled with the guests as Sansa danced with her father. But his eyes and his thoughts were never far from her. Once Sansa parted from her father, the DJ cleared his throat to signal everyone for their attention. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, the mother and groom dance."

Upon hearing the DJ's words, Sandor's head snapped up towards him. With a sullen and confused look, he turned to Beric. "Damn DJ...we _told_ him there wasn't going to be a mother-son dance." Beric patted Sandor on the arm and pointed a finger over Sandor's shoulder to the dance floor. When Sandor turned back around, his mouth hung open as he saw Catelyn taking the microphone from the DJ.

"Sandor..." Catelyn began, her voice heavy with emotion. "There is no one that can replace Grace in your heart. But..." she paused to press her lips together, trying to compose herself, "but I would be so honored...if you would dance with me instead. So that I may welcome you into our family as my son."

All the air in Sandor's lungs left him as he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. He pressed his forefinger and thumb to his eyes in an attempt to control himself. With tears in his own eyes, Beric clapped him heartily on the back, encouraging him to rise. When the song began to play and he finally rose out of his seat and approached Catelyn on the dance floor, he lost it. An old _Pink Floyd_ song "Wish You Were Here" had been chosen for the dance. There wasn't a dry eye in the entire reception tent as Sandor slowly turned Catelyn around on the floor.

When his eyes found hers, his voice came to him. "Thank you..." Sandor finally managed to choke out.

"No... _thank you,_ Sandor." Catelyn replied as she squeezed the hand that held hers. "You have brought so much joy to our lives by loving Sansa the way that you do."

* * *

 

**Six Days Later**

"Sweetheart, you need to put some more sunscreen on." Sandor insisted as he sat up in the beach chair he was reclined in. He dug around in the bag Sansa had packed for them that morning when they had left their bungalow.

"I'm _fine,_ Sandor. I just put some on thirty minutes ago."

As he shook the aerosol can of sunscreen, Sandor grunted. "Yeah, exactly. This is SPF thirty, so you need to put it on every thirty minutes." He uncapped the can and motioned to Sansa. "Now come here."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "I don't think that's how it works..." She obliged him anyway and moved herself between his legs.

"I don't care how it works, I don't want you burnt to a crisp when our honeymoon isn't even a week over."

Their surprise two week honeymoon to an all inclusive luxury resort on the island of Naath was a gift from Sansa's parents. Sandor had been in on it, and had told Sansa they were just going to a resort in Dorne for a few days. He wasn't too worried about Sansa not having enough clothes for two weeks, since she packed like they would be gone for a month. Sansa was beyond excited when she figured it out at the airport, causing quite a scene by throwing herself into Sandor's arms.

"If you're all red and hurting, how am I going to make love to you?" Sandor growled in her ear as he pulled her closer to him.

Giggling at the thought, Sansa conceded. "Ok, you're right. Put it on _thick."_ Sansa had never had so much sex in her life. They had done it anywhere and everywhere they could think of. The bed, the shower, the jacuzzi tub, the floor, the kitchen table, their deck area, in their private pool, and against Sansa's better judgment, in the ocean. They had even made love by moonlight on the chaise lounges on the beach that were reserved for their stay. The times they had managed to peel themselves away from each other had been spent dining at the five star restaurants the resort had to offer, swimming with dolphins, touring the butterfly gardens, and lounging on the beach next to the sparkling blue waters of The Summer Sea. The staff diligently doted on them, supplying Sandor with all the cold beer he could drink during their hours on the hot beach. Sandor had once even reluctantly agreed to go hiking with Sansa. Even though he had grumbled, cussed, and panted the whole time, he had to admit, the view from the summit was fantastic. The smile on Sansa's face though, was even better.

* * *

 

**Five Years Later**

"I gotta hand it to you, babe. You sure know how to make a house feel like _home."_ Sandor commented sweetly as he took a look around their new house, which had finally come together exactly the way Sansa had wanted it. They had been there for four months, and Sandor had finally gotten around to unpacking the very last box that evening after work.

"Thank you, darling." Smiling with appreciation, Sansa slowly lowered herself onto the couch. Sandor rushed over to help her, letting her brace against his hand as he propped a pillow behind her back as she sank onto the cushions. Moving in any capacity was laborious, as big as her stomach was. Sandor hadn't meant for her to get pregnant again so soon after their first child. He at least wanted for their child to be a bit more independent before welcoming another baby into the family. The fact that Sansa had stopped taking her contraceptive shots had slipped his mind as he made love to her one night after putting his son to sleep.

Sandor had made good on his promise for them to move into a larger place. With a four year old and another baby on the way, it was time for them to leave the three bedroom apartment they had called home for the past few years. As luck would have it, a beautiful four bedroom house became available just outside the city right when they began their search. At first, Sandor was reluctant to leave the city. He loved the convenience of everything being right at his fingertips. But he had grown to love their new suburban home with the sprawling backyard when he saw how much his child loved to run and play with their new puppy, Pickles. Pierre had passed away only three months after they had gotten married. They had been devastated, and Sandor kindly rejected Sansa's idea to get a puppy to fill the void. With heavy hearts, Sandor and Sansa had laid Pierre to rest by burying him in Catelyn and Ned's backyard since they were still in an apartment with no outdoor space. When his son came along, Sandor had insisted that no boy should grow up without a dog. The week Sansa finally decided that Axel was old enough to be around a dog, Sandor came home from work a black and white Great Dane puppy.

Sandor liked his new home even more when Tormund and Margaery closed on a house right down the street just over a month ago. With one year old twin girls, Tormund had decided it was time to leave his townhouse in the city. All that was missing from their peaceful suburban street were Beric and Thoros. But Beric and Lola were still enjoying the city life as a newly married couple. The Four Corners Kitchen was thriving, and had even been recognized as "must try" destination in King's Landing by The Travel Channel. Thoros had decided to take another trip around Essos while he was still young. He had facetimed Sandor and Sansa a few nights ago, saying he had met an exotic beauty from Valyria who was helping him perfect a new yoga method. _Whatever that means_ , Sandor had chuckled to himself as Sansa had turned the phone towards Axel for him to say hello to Uncle Thoros.

Absolutely loving his life, Sandor now spent his evenings gladly fulfilling his 'honey-do' list and helping Sansa take care of Axel. He had learned the fine art of coercing a toddler to eat a few bites of vegetables, and had even been attempting to teach him how to tie his shoes. Of all the hard things Sandor had done in his life, being a parent was by far the most difficult. But there was nothing he loved more. Besides his wife. He took care of Sansa as well. Sandor rubbed her feet, cooked meals for them when she was too tired, and supplied her with as many orgasms as she wanted. Each evening before bed, Sandor would collapse next to Sansa and rest his ear on her enormous bump. When he had heard the news that their second baby was a girl, Sandor had nearly passed out in his seat next to the table Sansa was stretched out on at the OBGYN office.

Married life for Sansa was bliss. Sure there were times when she wanted to smack Sandor on his head with a frying pan. Like the time he had stained her kitchen table with oil as he cleaned his guns there...after Sansa told him not to. Or the time he accidentally let the word _shit_ fly out of his mouth in front of their very loquacious son. But Sandor was a doting husband and an even better father. The way he shamelessly acted ridiculous when playing with Axel just melted her heart. She secretly looked forward to the time when her daughter would be old enough to play _tea party._ When the notion first crossed her mind, she had laughed out loud at the thought of Sandor sitting at a tiny table across from his daughter, wearing a pink feather boa and a glittering tiara. No matter how tired he was when he came home from the garage, Sandor always spent time with his son. Axel was the spitting image of Sandor. Except for his big, blue eyes, he was Sandor's carbon copy. When he had been born, it was like falling in love with Sandor all over again.

Now that their daughter was on her way, Sansa selfishly hoped for a mini-Sansa. The day she had suggested the name _Grace_ for their daughter, Sandor had all but cried right in the middle of Luwin's, where they had gone for their anniversary.

"I think..." Sandor began as he hastily wiped the tears out of his eyes, lest anyone in the restaurant see him fall apart. "I think Grace would have been very proud to be the inspiration behind our daughter's name." He traced this thumb in circles on the smooth skin of Sansa's hand that he clung to. As he raised Sansa's hand to his lips for a lingering kiss, Sandor closed his eyes and heard Grace's words echo in his mind. He smiled when he realized he had finally been able to fulfill her wish for him. There was too much love and happiness in his life for there to be room for any misery or anger.

He had finally let it all go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! So many feels right now! Thanks again for reading, and as always, please let me know what you think. As my story was very much modern A/U, I hope you will humor me by being ok with the hodgepodge wedding vows. I know it was a mix of the Old Gods ceremony and the Faith of the Seven, with a few modern words thrown in. Hey, I tried :)
> 
> As many of you are already aware, I am planning on starting a new story. Still got some kinks to work out in the early chapters that I already have written, but it should be up shortly! It's going to be a "country boy Sandor meets Sansa from the big city" kind of modern fanfic. Please be sure to follow me as a writer if you are interested in reading my new story! Happy reading! xoxoxo
> 
> P.S. ...LONG LIVE SANSAN!


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